The Assembly

[franceslievens]

First step in accommodating this house to its new inhabitant: moving the office to the other room so the baby can reign in the big room without access to the outside terrace, and we can still walk out without waking up the baby.
As the other room is nearly half the size of this one, moving the office comes with some puzzling. And new IKEA-desks, IKEA-cupboards, and IKEA-cabinets. The Swedish concern managed to get a load of cash out of our pockets.
Still the revenue-optimising-engineers aren't doing that great a job. They save a couple of cents leaving out unnecessary screws, puzzling together flat packets, and hoping you can do everything with a screw driver – including cutting through cardboard. What they don't know is that some furniture just doesn't want to leave the shop. Either it's not in stock, or it's too big.
P. had confiscated his father's car (with driver) to get the last and biggest desk (my desk). Around 11 this morning I get a panicky phone call that the thing doesn't fit into the car. It would fit, but the door to the boot of the car is too small.
So the piece gets left behind and P.'s trek looking for the rest of our furniture goes on. The cupboards we wanted to buy weren't in stock at the first IKEA. So off he went to the second one (yes we've got two IKEA shops in our vicinity), where the cupboard doors were out of stock. P. pays for the cupboards sans doors, wanting to return later to get the doors once they're back in stock. At home we realise we've got the wrong cupboards. They guy handling P.'s order, interprets his frantic pointing at a horizontal hanging cupboard, as him wanting 4 vertical cupboards of the same size.
Ah, it's such a nice day to drive a car through Brussels. P. is off again to exchange the wrong cupboards for the right ones, and arrives back home just in time to drag a piece of desk up five floors, because it doesn't fit in the lift. At least now we've got our desks, four doorless cupboards, and heaps of screws to fit into the correct holes.

Comments

[iphi1.livejournal.com]

IKEA it's not a shop, it's an adventure :)

We also once had to hire one of their vans to transport a cupboard we bought after we realised it would not fit into our car, no matter how much we wanted it to.

Also, I always say, better one screw too much than not enough, because then you're really screwed. (bad pun - again - I blame it on lack of sleep)

[frances-lievens.livejournal.com]

It's even more adventurous when you choose a Saturday afternoon to do your shopping. :-)

We usually end up with too many screws. P. frantically counts them to check whether they did something wrong, but never they do.
In the Anderlecht IKEA there's a gigantic wall with screws and bolts and other bits and pieces, right behind the information desk. I guess that's where you refill when you're ... err ... missing a screw.

...testing...testing

[sister-luck.livejournal.com]

IKEA serves as a modern-day quest, as an initiation rite which you have to repeat with every life change.

Re: ...testing...testing

[frances-lievens.livejournal.com]

Okay, that's a good one.

P. replies: "Brico (http://www.brico.be/wabs/hp/index.jsp) too."
(He's pouting because the screws he bought to hang the cupboards against the wall were too short, and now he has to buy new ones.)

Re: ...testing...testing

[sister-luck.livejournal.com]

Oh yes, the DIY-places are even worse, because they're usually so cluttered and the people who work there often don't know their arse from their elbow and treat everyone with a question with utter contempt.

Re: ...testing...testing

[frances-lievens.livejournal.com]

And you can never find what you need...