the ultimate hajj, at least in our culture

Today, we journeyed to the grand marketplace de l'univers, Ikea. I had never been to one before. When one first opened in our area, I wanted to stay away for a looong time until the hoopla died down.

Then I got ready for our next project -- to replace our rather tired but still serviceable cabinets -- so tired, that two of the doors are kept closed with a lovely red rubber band. So for the last few weeks, I've been measuring, comparing current cabinets to possible replacements, pricing options out.

And today we made our pilgrimmage. The store turns out to be less than an hour away. It's an amazing consumer factory, very efficient with its paths through the store, shortcuts as if we were playing "chutes and ladders," and recognizably uniformed sales associates.

We ended up dealing with a young, and by his own admission, inexperienced kitchen planner. He seemed incredibly defensive -- he knows the "design rules" and seemed unhappy about straying from them even though we're just replacing cabinets, not gutting the kitchen and starting over. For example, we're violating one rule by placing our well-insulated stove-and-oven next to the dishwasher. Apparently, this is a *bad* idea, even though I've lived with this very setup for eighteen years. "Ok, ok," he said, holding up his hands, "I have no investment in your design, not a bit." (yeah, right).

He rushed us through our order, then wanted us to rush through signing for it. I needed some time to check it, and he finally said, "Fine. I'll give you five minutes. And then I need to work with another customer." Wow. We had a little more than five minutes, but still.

And finally, he took us into the back room to pay for the whole order, and as soon as we were done, he took out his inhaler and took a huge whiff. And this kid is probably in his mid-twenties. He'll probably keel over from stress before he's 30 unless he learns to calm down a little.

We wandered through the rest of the store and picked up some accessories, all oddly named, as is the Ikea way. Then a short line to check out, a longer line to arrange for home delivery, and a quick run through the goofy "grocery store."

We were there for three hours (phew!) but there was very little traffic coming home. We're both exhausted.