Friday, December 30, 2005

Infestation


A couple in the throes of passion, a malevolent glance and then the ugly little creamer is knocked off the table only to shatter into a million pieces across the floor.

You feel sorry for the little creamer? That is because you're crazy. You can buy a new one at Ikea.

I loved that little creamer. It did not deserve to die.

And yet somehow I still manage to find myself inside that wonderful feat of suburban big-box architecture, lured most likely by the irresistable temptation of an Ikea $1 breakfast ($1.07 after tax). Damn Swedes and their clever marketing.

I can't put my finger on exactly what it is, but there's something about Ikea that turns me into a little kid. It's just an inherently fun place to go, I guess, especially since there are quite literally a million and a half things to put on my head and a wide range of curtains to wear.

We all know what you get for the $1 breakfast, but guess what's for lunch?

Gravlax with a side of polyester rat.