So, having finally gotten the shelves for DVDs and books situated, we were roped into going to that store again. We got to spend some time with my sister Suzanne and she got to get some time with adults. My mother got to spend some time with Suzanne's little one.
We decided that while we were there, we would buy two new office chairs. We found just what we wanted: the Karsten swivel office chair with a blue seat and black backrest.
We went downstairs to the stack area and found that these are stocked in the mysterious "full service aisle." After being all but scolded by an Ikea employee for being in the wrong aisle and for not having picked up the chair ourself from the stock area before queuing up in the incredibly long check out line, this paragon of customer service called to find out whether the item was, in fact, in stock.
Nope.
"We have it in yellow/black and red/black" he announces, "but not in blue/black. Sorry." I would have been fine with uniform black, another color in the display area. He didn't even mention it. Shel's pissed. I'm pissed.
So I ask myself: "Self," (I call myself "Self.") "Self, why did we even bother to come back here, knowing in our hearts-of-hearts that we would be disappointed? Why?"
Self said nothing.
We had our hearts set on these chairs - maybe that was the problem. I figured that perseverance was how we got our bookshelves; maybe it would pay off with chairs, too.
Since I didn't think to take down the stock number before Shel crumpled up our notes in disgust, I looked at the website today. The black/black is out of stock. So are the red/black and the yellow/black (both really ugly, by the way).
The blue/black that we wanted? No mention. Apparently Ikea doesn't even carry such a thing. Why would anybody want blue/black? It looks good! eww!
Pathetic.
I guess I should be glad that they have updated their website to allow one to check stock from the product's description page instead of having to navigate their labyrinthine phone system to be told that they don't have what is sought after and endure constantly-changing, uninformed answers about when the item might become available.
I still have fantasies about murdering Anna in a gruesome, digital way, dismembering her file extensions, pulling out her code, line by gory line, and hacking off her animation in one fell swing, leaving her face frozen in a vaguely bemused expression. Then I'd truly be pleased as Punch.
