Super Stores: Super Fun & Super Dumb

By Lucy Parker, Super Store Enthusiast and Basher

America has an obsession with “super stores”, Target Greatland, Wal-mart Super Center, Sam’s Club, Costco and BJ’s. At these one-stop shops you can get everything from a pair of socks, to a Christmas tree, to a gallon of mayo. And, let’s not forget Ikea, where you can spend hours walking in their store layout, forced to follow those arrows around what is probably the size of an airport hangar looking at mediocre Swedish household items. Although people complain about these places in reference to shit that is wrong with America (i.e. excess), most people (including yours truly) cannot get enough of these places. I don’t know what it is!

In my own defense, I must say that it is a very rare opportunity that I get to visit these establishments. Manhattan is a size constrained island and having airport hangars full of gallons of mayo would require some serious real estate acquisitions on the company’s behalf, although there is no doubt they are probably trying to do so. (They opened one in Brooklyn, but how am I supposed to get all my crap back on the subway?) Thus, every chance I get to go to one of these places, I jump at the opportunity. It’s like a friggin' field trip that fills me with amazement and the undying urge to buy shit I don’t need. At one trip to a Sam’s club I purchased 36 ice cream sandwiches. Why? BECAUSE I COULD! Did I eat them? No, I had about two. I was so ashamed, that is until my most recent experience with the super store, Ikea.

One of my roommates had access to a car and planned on visiting Ikea with her family. Seeing this as a prime opportunity, I immediately wanted to go. However, it wasn’t possible and I went to Ikea’s website and found a nice dresser for my room. I gave my roommate the money necessary to purchase the item and she delivered it right to our apartment, a success by any means. Only everything went horribly wrong and I ended up needing to exchange the dresser because, super stores always known for their “quality”, half the parts were missing. What else should I expect from a store whose instruction manuals don't even include words? Graciously, one of my friends agreed to drive me there, on a Saturday night.

And, that is when I realized how much it sucks to be an adult sometimes and the very real possibility that my life is pathetic. I had to get a number, like I was at the DMV, and wait to be called. So, there I was in Paramus, NJ, on a Saturday night sitting at Ikea’s customer service with my half dresser and half ass watching “Final Destination 3”.

The only thing that made this night better was that when I looked up after checking my phone, a crowd had gathered around the TV playing “Final Destination 3” in the waiting area. A crowd that included my two friends and people who weren’t even waiting for their numbers to be called, they were just passing by with their shopping carts and somehow got entranced into that horrible movie. My number was called and I exchanged my dresser and ripped my friends away from “Final Destination 3”. We placed my dresser in the car, so we could move around Ikea at ease. Of course we weren’t leaving.

Not only were we not leaving, but it became essential that we stop by the food place and stock up on food items for one dollar (hot dogs, ice cream, etc.) I saved my food money for the cinnamon buns at the end. We didn’t care that we only had an hour and fifteen minutes until the place closed, never mind that only a week before I had sworn off Ikea and all similar stores (not you Target, I love you) on moral principles. We were at Ikea and we were going to make the most of it, damnit.

A lot of people would ask what you can get done at Ikea in only one hour and fifteen minutes. My answer is a lot. Common sense tells you that in general you are going to want at least 2 hours there, given the sheer size of the place and the fact that they do sell food, as if it were some sort of marathon where nourishment is needed such as Gatorade. Actually after my sprint through Ikea, it would be preferable if there were some sort of stand set up throughout the airport hangar where you can get electrolyte sports drinks, I’ll take red please.

Dresser free and well stocked on high caloric nourishment, my friends and I proceeded to what I would call “crash shop” our way through Ikea. It was reminiscent of those designer bridal gown sales where people line up hours in advance and tear through the store to find their dress, although not quite on that scale. We were literally power walking our way through, and with 15 minutes to spare were able to get two dressers (3 if you count the one I exchanged), 3 lamps, drawer compartment organizers, and some bamboo. The topic of discussion on the car ride home was that we didn’t have enough time and that we must return ASAP.

The worst part was that I whole heartedly concurred. I had just had a horrible experience with Ikea that will forever be emblazoned in my brain, but one little 2 hour excursion at Ikea broke me. All I needed was to see that ugly, lit up, yellow Ikea sign and I was immediately drawn to it, like a mosquito to a lamp. I cannot wait until we go again, and I am ashamed that I am not the least bit ashamed.