Sunday Afternoon at Ikee-ER

Today, I did what I never do much that I should do more often. I went to Ikea. Or, as the family in Maine would call it, "Ikee-ER". One of the luxuries of city living is that places like this actually will do stuff to get you to their locale. Case in point - Ikea offers a free shuttle bus service every weekend, picking up and dropping off from the Port Authority bus terminal. So, it's not unusual to see numerous hipsters waiting in a very, very long line at Gate #5 for this bus.

I went out of want/need of picture frames and didn't find what I was looking for. But I came back with the bendable cutting board (a necessity in my teeny-tiny kitchen), and some cheap towels to place across my windowsill to catch the grime that enters my apartment in the summertime (you have to see it to believe it). Oh, and I couldn't leave without buying some proper Scandinavian licorice.

I like Ikea, but I also hate it. For some time, all I could think was, what is it about this place that leaves me so conflicted? This weekend I figured it out. I go there mainly for the food. Okay, I'll admit it, I treat the cafeteria as if I were really in Sweden. The Swedish meatballs with lingonberry sauce are definitely the highpoint of my trip there. The coffee, which I rarely drink in my day to day life, is strong and smooth. And I get all jazzed up over the decadent desserts (who wouldn't!). My view of Swedish cuisine is forever skewed. I think anyway. I recall visiting the cafe inside the Scandinavia House and feeling let down that the $4.99 meatball plate special was not the focal point of the menu. Such is life I guess.

I guess the moral to the story is that I only emphatically LOVE the place. But, I do enjoy visiting.

So the next time you hear me mention that I went to Ikea, don't first ask what I bought. First ask me what I ate!