IKEA...again?

There's been so much response to my IKEA post, and I'm intrigued by this. I will, in the interest of equal time, record here some "off the record" comments from an anonymous person who cites positives about the IKEA experience...I don't agree, but, again, equal time:

1. There was at least one pleasant employee there who had a good attitude and was helpful.

2. The eye rolling asshole probably helped begrudgingly and with attitude because it "wasn't his job," but he helped anyway, which should be cited as a positive.

3. IKEA is able to keep prices lower by having fewer employees.

4. The existing employees probably don't get paid that much, so one's expectations for customer service needn't be so high.

5. If you were at a locally owned or smaller chain furniture store, they would be happy to kiss your ass while you pay more for their product and sign up for their credit plan with a %35 interest rate.

6. Everything we buy these days is made somewhere else, usually China. Other retailers do it, too.

7. Blogging is a place where people just naturally come to bitch. If you give people an opportunity to talk about their bad experiences with anything, they will...that doesn't mean that every experience for every person in IKEA was unpleasant, but those who had pleasant experiences just not to kvetch on the internet.

Again, I don't agree, but the arguments are interesting. I look forward to seeing the responses of others.

50th

This will be my 50th post since I started this little blog in May! Hoorah.

So with something as monumental as post number 50, why don't I have anything interesting to say?

I want someone to do my homework for me. It's hard. And scary.

In other news, Pluto is now simply...Mickey's dog.

I was hoping for more planets.

IKEA

There are pros and cons to any retail establishment. Let it be enough said that...we got the furniture we needed, at a decent price, and very stylish, too.

It's what you have to go through to get it.

The IKEA store in the Atlantic Station area of midtown Atlanta is a big, blue monstrosity--the 15 acre complex includes enough parking for every yuppie in the greater Atlanta area, and some change. There were cars in the lot from all over the Southeast. The building itself is 366,000 square feet and includes a couple of restaurants, a play area for kids, and zillions of pieces of furniture and other home decor items.

There are, as far as I know, two levels to the store--the top level is the furniture showroom, and the bottom level is where you can actually buy shit. Items are classified into two categories--stuff you can pick up yourself, and stuff you have to wait several hours for.

My warnings to those considering shopping at IKEA are as follows:

--there's no signage that explains what to do or how to get things...anywhere.
--there are two people working there for about every 17,000 customers.
--they are both rude.

So we pick out some stuff on the showroom floor, we stay within our budget, and I do an ok job of retaining my sanity through the showroom process.

Then we go to try and actually find the stuff we picked out. No major problems, but we chose two items that fall into the "we go get it because its heavy and then we hand it to you and you carry it" category.

There was never any signage explaining how this process works.

On the nice little slip that explained what the red and yellow tags meant, there was no clue given as to who to approach to get this process started, and well, the two employees on the showroom floor were busy talking to other customers...so we asked a young man allegedly working down in the "pick up your own stuff" area for assistance.

This kid needs an absolute kick in his ass. He helped us, begrudgingly, and laughed sarcastically when Dawn told him the info he needed to look stuff up. She didn't know exactly what the number of two night stands were, but knew the name. Every time--as they narrowed the search for the item--and Dawn missed slightly (and it only took Dawn two tries to give him the correct information) he smarted off and smirked sarcastically...

This pissed me off royally and I spoke out--I told him, hackles raised on my neck--that "I could go find attitude somewhere else, I didn't need his" or something.

He ignored me and finally we got what we needed--but I just didn't appreciate that.

IKEA falls into the category of business I despise--the kind popularized in that most famous and for me, a most hated episode of Seinfeld, the "Soup Nazi."

IKEA, like the soup nazi-have what people want, the price is right, and the demand is so high that they don't have to exhibit a pleasant attitude toward the customer.

I think the Southerner in me really comes out in situations like this. Let the "Soup Nazi" be rude to this Georgia boy, and he'll wear that soup. I'll just go home and make some brunswick stew.

I tend to enjoy shopping places where my business is appreciated.

No one's soup...or furniture...is that good.

Travelblogue

Hello dear and regular readers--

I am updating a new blogging area where I'll post a record of my work travels.

Enjoy!

http://tralalog.blogspot.com/

Be Sure you Secure...

A continuation/update of my previous list of things to be sure are secured for transport in/on your vehicle:

Sofas (Yes. this very morning)
Buckets (Again, a problem today in Atlanta)
Nails (grrr)
Knotted wads of shiny scrap metal
Pets
Deck chairs

Mislaid

Someone at NASA is going to have some SERIOUS overdue fees.

Ala(damn)bama

On Saturday, Dawn and I went over to Birmingham, Alabama to ride some roller coasters at Alabama Adventure (formerly "VisionLand"--whatever that means). We got up early and inspired on Saturday. It was a rare rainy morning.

We stopped on the way out of town to get some cash. I had noticed my tires were making a strange slapping noise. They always make a clicking noise--but this was somehow different. I suspected a possible flat.

Soooo. I checked the tire pressure. 35. 35. 35. 10. 10 lbs of pressure means a problem so we wound up spending a couple of hours waiting to leave as we waited for the Pep Boys to plug the offending tire. We made the best of it, walked in the slow drizzle down the street to the local coffee shop, Jolty's, had some pastry and coffee, and read the paper.

We ventured back to get the car, and soon,everything was ready to go. Sometimes, an inicident like this is enough to squash my travel bug, but not today. We hit the interstate westbound and down.

140 miles later, we arrived in Birmingham. We grabbed a quick lunch and then hit the park. The temperatures had climbed through the humidity, and the day was warm and damp. We first enjoyed the roller coaster that Dawn rates as her NUMBER 1 wooden roller coaster--Rampage. It was worth the drive--a fun ride with lots of high drops and fun curves. Our day was generally much more enjoyable in ways than a day at Six Flags as we were able to ride, pretty much at will, the Rampage without any waiting in line.

I got my first experience riding a Boomerang--and I found this to be a pretty fun and intense ride.

We rode a couple of water rides--the Dawn-described, "world's shortest log flume." We entered the long line for the rapids ride--everyone had high hopes for a good, cooling soaking--in the end, it was hardly worth the wait as we barely even got damp. Still, it was nice to have water on me that wasn't my sweat.

Up the hill for a few more rides on the Rampage, then we headed out. We drove back in some of the rain we left behind in west Georgia, but finally found a lovely, cool late evening when we arrive back in Douglasville, the first real twinge of the idea of Fall.

Snakes on a...Bus?

Someone's pet snake wreaked havoc on a bus in Detroit.

Snakes. Bus. Detroit.

That just seems like a much more funny and enjoyable movie to me.

Snakes on a...Mail Box? Even funnier, but really a much shorter movie.

http://www.politicalgateway.com/news/read/25344

If one searches google news for "snake bus detroit" one finds a surprising array of stray snake stories.

This movie holds less and less interest for me given that America seems to be fighting a constant, real-life battle with these reptilian vermin.

Corrosion

Seizing any opportunity to raise gas prices, the morons at BP made sure that they discovered a bum pipeline in Alaska, causing a shut down in distribution from the Prudhoe Bay area, where 8% of U.S. oil is produced.

So...windfall profits. Let's not spend any of them on maintaining infrastructure.

Just when I was softening up on letting the bastards drill in the ANWR, this tells me again that that's just a bad idea.

I...I Will Survive

"Well I know karate, Voodoo too
I'm gonna make myself available to you
I don't need no make up
I got real scars
I got hair on my chest
I look good without a shirt"
--Tom Waits

So, it's Thursday evening and I made it through my first class! My co-workers are so wonderful, and they make me feel cocky enough to live up to this song sometimes, though the experiences I have had teaching my first class give me a bit of humility, and more to learn.

Tomorrow, I dive in with both feet hard--working on going forward with my new information literacy class, and bringing it on home-- I need to really get moving with that, and then with working to learn more and more about the resource sharing interface, so that I can effectively teach it to library staff around the Southeast.

Thanks to the sweetest woman I know Dawniepants, for being there for me, for calling me at all the right times to give me support, and for loving me in spite of my flaws. She's kind of cool....sometimes. ;).

Tonight we had dinner and wine, and I'm feeling nice as I write this. Dawn feels dizzy...oh so dizzy, but in the best possible way. Yay!

And to any of the SOLINET crew that read this, thank you again for your great card and gift, and for all the great support you give to me at every turn.

Woo hoo!

Throb Throb Throb Throb Throb Throb Throb Throb

A conversation had at 3:30 AM. I've been awake ever since...

"Hello"
(groggily) "Is Craig there."

"There's no Craig here"

"Do you live on Rocky Ridge Blvd.?"

"Yes."

"Hi, this is your downstairs neighbor. I can hear your music, would you mind turning it down."

(angrily) "HOW can you POSSIBLY hear my music? It's only on like 3"

(also angrily) "Obviously I heard it, it woke me up and it's keeping me awake."

"You can't be serious"

"I'm serious, I can hear and feel the bass from your speakers in my apartment."

"It's not even that loud, how can you...how can you hear it?"

"I can hear it. I can feel it. I walk into the hallway and I can hear it on the back wall of my apartment."

"Fine. Whatever. I'll turn it down."

"Thanks, I appreciate it."

"Whatever. I'll just turn it off."

Now granted I was grumpy, but I tried to be pleasant. I did get his name wrong, but I have a terribly memory for names and....IT WAS 3:30 in the damn morning!

CLICK.

Thank you for validating my need to do that this morning, Todd. Don't give me your card and tell me to call if/when your music bothers me, and then expect me not to call, even if it's 3:30 AM.

And dude, get some better music.

Throb Throb Throb Throb Throb Throb Throb Throb Throb.

House is Dead.

Big Ol' Jet Fuel Tanker

What a morning yesterday.

I left for work at the usual time, around 6:30 AM. I got onto the interestate to find the usual, pleasant, lighter than average Monday volume. I was focused, I knew that I had a lot to accomplish before Tuesday, that my friend Todd was flying in and we'd meet for lunch in the city, and that the long awaited Tom Waits show was right around the corner on Tuesday evening.

So lots to do, lots to be excited about.

Until...

The traffic report, voiced as always by the velvety Cpt. Herb Emory, excitedly announced "We've got a RED ALERT on the WEST expressway."

Have you ever known a red alert to be good? But when cpt. Herb whips out the Red Alert, he means business.

Overturned fuel tanker. Overturned JET fuel tanker.

So my commute into the city was blocked, I was stuck, and there was really no easy way out.

I patiently listened to Willie, and occasionally flipped back to the traffic report, DENIED a number of those morons who think they can use the emergency lane to their advantage, and eventually made my way to the Thorton Rd. onramp.

Here in Austell, we discover a new breed of driving moron. The "I'm going to block the intersection and I don't care if the light turns red" moron. Grr. So about four redlights and a state trooper intervention later, I make it back onto the interstate, heading back west with only two or three cars along with me, speed limit or stronger and making great time!

I got back home, took a deep breath, and decided to work at home, where I was fairly productive.

Todd very kindly agreed to meet me at the nearest Marta station, and he arrived well after the accident was cleared.

Later in the day, I was very glad to be at home. I learned that there was a potential bomb in midtown, not too far from where I work.

Turns out, a robot bomb sniffer and several hours of blocked streets and police effort later, it was...a prop some advertising company had left lying around. Genius.

IT has been a very strange and sad few days in the Atlanta area. We have been taken aback by the murder on the Silver Comet Trail, jet fuel, fake bombs.

Tom Waits is coming. The moon must be blue.