Saturday, January 13, 2007

Don't ask me to go there again...

With the house move on the horizon and all, it is decreed that we need to visit Ikea for wardrobes and stuff.

Ikea in Leeds is right across the other side of Leeds from where we live, a 40 minute drive (at least) and its located on the worlds busiest retail park where the worlds worst drivers gather to queue their cars on the worlds worst traffic system every weekend.

I hate going to Ikea, but if theres one thing worse than me hating to go to Ikea then its queueing - I do not do queues - if a shop wants my business then it had damn well better have a parking space available for me within two minutes of me arriving - or I go.

Ikea Leeds have an outside car park and a multi-storey car park, that is to say its multi by the power of two floors, or maybe its three, I honestly don't know how many floors its got but its more than one, the important thing is I've never found a fuckin space in that fuckin car park yet - and I've fuckin tried - I've given them far more than the allocated two minutes on several occasions and still they fail on the car park front.

Two weeks ago we drove all the way across Leeds to Ikea, for wardrobes and stuff, bad mistake, the New Year sale had just started, people were abandoning cars up to a mile away and walking, in the car park itself murders were being committed as each time a car left four others fought over the space, we arrived, drove around all of the floors (more than one) drove around the outside car park, drove around the fuckin staff car park, drove around and around for ten minutes - then drove all the way back home again, theres a nice waste of two fuckin hours of my life.

Today I decided that we should go to Ikea, for wardrobes and stuff.

We arrived, we queued through the worst retail park with the worst traffic management system in the world, we got to the Ikea multi (certainly more than one) storey car park and drove and queued up and down the aisles with not one glimmer of a space, except three times when Suzanne shouted out "theres one there" pointing behind us to a row that we'd just passed where the car behind us was now reversing in.

We tried all the fuckin floors (however many there are), no spaces, we tried the outside fuckin car park, no fuckin spaces, we tried the staff car park, no fuckin space, and so we drove all the way back home again, yet another fuckin waste of two hours of my life and I'm running out of hours in my life now, I should be making good use of what I've got left not queueing all the way to fuckin iIkea then queueing all the way back home again.

So in future, if I ever mention a trip to Ikea, you have my full permission to shoot me, Ikea and their wobbly wardrobes can stick their flat pack concept where the sun don't shine, we'll go to MFI, I know where theres a branch that is on a shabby run down retail park that doesn't get customers any more and you always have your pick of the 2000 car park spaces.

No, I'm not telling you where it is.

1 comment:

John_D said...

I couldn't agree more. Can't stand the place.
I went once in order to change a lightbulb. It took 45 minutes. To change a fucking light bulb....