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.
Friday, December 30, 2005
Infestation
Posted by erin at 1:36 AM
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