I did a terrible thing

I disobeyed the Ikea arrows...

Jimmy and I are off to Ikea. As we head across the car park towards the world’s biggest selection of food bag sealing clips, I make a firm decision.

Today we will do Ikea not Jimmy’s way - but my way.

We’re going to do this my way

I should explain that I love Ikea and find it fun. And Jimmy most definitely does not find it fun.

‘That’s a very determined stride,’ he observes as I march onwards, figuring out a plan. Today, I decide, I’ll pave the way for a happier experience by explaining how I’d like it to be.

I stop and look at him. ‘I don’t like the way you navigate Ikea,’ I say.

‘What, as quickly as possible?’

‘Exactly! It’s not designed to be raced through without stopping—’

‘—No, it is, it is…’

‘But where’s the pleasure in that?’

We enter our Glasgow store. Naively, I’d thought that because we are here for ‘fun’ things for a small gathering - wine glasses, table coverings, bowls and fairy lights - then today’s trip would actually be enjoyable. But already, Jimmy has surged ahead as if the building is on fire and is now out of sight.

I carry on, consulting my list on my phone. Barge ahead if you want! I decide. I will not be rushed.

When I find him, my newfound calmness has served me well. ‘That’s it - all done,’ I report.

‘Great!’

‘Except we need a mattress topper for the sofa bed. It’s terrible to sleep on, and with everyone coming home for Christmas…’ Jimmy’s mouth sets in a line as I ask a staff member where such a thing can be found.

‘You’ll need to go back to the bedroom department for that,’ she says. ‘Choose the kind you want and then pick it up from the self service area.’

‘Oh no!’ Jimmy declares, when she’s barely out of earshot. As if she’d said, You’ll need to go to Wisconsin for that. ‘We’re not going BACK,’ he announces, shuddering.

Me: ‘It’s not that far.’

J: ‘No, we’ll come back another time.’

Me, glaring: ‘You’d rather go home and come back and do this all over again?’

J: ‘We can order one online.’

Me, witheringly, ‘Yes, we could order one online - FROM HERE - but it’ll cost £30 delivery charge when right now we’re in the building—’

J, eyebrows shooting up: ‘We’ll be back!’

Me: ‘When?’

J: ‘Before Christmas.’

Me: ‘What for?’

J, flustered: ‘Candles—’

Me: ‘We won’t need to come back if we get everything now. Let’s go to the bedroom department—’

J: ‘But it’s back against the traffic flow.’ Against the arrows, he means.

Me, just to spite him because actually I’m not thrilled at the prospect of going back either: ‘Fine! You stay here then.’ And off I storm, inexplicably furious as I battle my way through the great wave of humanity, all surging towards me with trolleys and writhing toddlers, everyone blank-eyed in the way we all are in this place, as if under hypnosis.

Perhaps we are?

Your eyelids are growing heavy. Relax and listen to my voice. You DO need more sets of Tupperware boxes…

I blunder onwards against the tide. It feels like the sole Zumba class I ever attended, when every time the class leapt to the right, I somehow staggered to the left and it seemed to last 100 years and even when it was over I couldn’t make sense of what had happened.

I hate to say it, but Jimmy was right. Going against the Ikea arrows as as foolhardy as trying to run up a down escalator.

Nothing good can come of it.

Finally I locate the mattress toppers - and pretty unspectacular they are too. What happened to the promised ‘choosing’? There are two kinds, virtually indistinguishable from each other. In a fit of pique I photograph the labels on both, and harumph all the way back to where Jimmy is sitting happy, doing puzzles on his phone.

We head to the self service area and locate a mattress topper. I’d like to report that it’s exciting but actually, it’s just a huge rolled up white sausage.

Exciting times

As we lug it to the car, I can’t actually remember what I was so mad about. And why - just thirty minutes ago - gaining possession of this item felt like a matter of life or death.

By the time we park up at home, I’m feeling sheepish.

‘Well, that went pretty well,’ Jimmy announces, clearly relieved that it’s all over. ‘You’re right, we won’t need to go back before Christma—’

‘WE FORGOT WINE GLASSES!!!’

Love,

Fiona xx

PS Does the thought of Christmas make you want to run for the hills? Three friends, all with very different reasons for wanting to escape it - that’s the gist of my new novel, now with 100+ (average 4.5*) Amazon reviews. You can order here! xx