So the new IKEA store in Houston is open. My God, what a monstrosity that thing is. The old store has been reduced to a pile of rubble, and next to the new behemoth it looks like a small pile. A tiny pile. The new store even has a bigger sign, as Michael pointed out, “just because it was more obnoxious that way.”
I know we’re going to need more stuff for the house, but I can’t face going back there for at least a couple of months. It took us four hours to get out of there last night and we didn’t even see all the showrooms. Hell, we spent a grand total of ten minutes in the self-serve warehouse.
We did a couch, a loveseat, a desk, a chair, a rug, a trash can, a boatload of coat hangers, and some picture frames for the same price we would otherwise have paid for just a couch had we gone elsewhere. However, we almost lost our purchases to a mud pit thanks to the pushing and shoving of hordes of other customers and a sadly underdeveloped loading area.
‘Tis a scary place. Go thou not unprepared.
