Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Home

I hadn’t planned on spending the night at IKEA. At least not at first. I was there that evening to buy the BOKIS book-ends. Clear polystyrene book-ends for $0.49. $0.49! I needed at least twenty. Getting out of the house had been hard. Jack was pissy, the kids needy, and by the time I got there it was already 8:45 and the store closed at 9:00. I’d seen them there a few weeks before in a bin, but they weren’t where I remembered them. I still hadn’t found them when the announcement came over the speakers encouraging all shoppers to make their final selections and move toward the check-out.

I needed those book-ends. I’d be damned if I was leaving without them. Hoards of people moved past me while I continued my search. They looked like ants carrying crumbs of food the size of their own bodies---a little frantic, excited about their finds. Their carts were overflowing with affordable Swedish ingenuity. I moved against them until I finally found them in a bin in the Storage section. I began loading my cart with them. More and more. They were only $0.49. Much more than twenty. More than I needed.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the towels. Bright blue, orange, hot pink. They weren’t wet and laying on my bed. They weren’t waiting to be washed. They were stacked neatly, clean and beautiful. I thought about the bed linens. The delicious colors and designs. The softness. I could smell the pungent, earthiness of the Kilim rugs. I didn’t want to leave. I couldn’t go back home to my filthy, cluttered house. I wouldn’t.

I waited until the last of the shoppers passed me. I saw two employees coming toward me, their bright yellow and navy shirts giving them away, and I ducked. After they passed me, I made a quick leap behind a shelf of towels. I crouched down and waited. A few more employees walked by laughing, then they were gone. Silence. All the lights were still on. I took off my shoes and carried them so I wouldn’t make any noise. I walked back through the Marketplace, deep into the belly of the massive store until I reached the Showroom. Just when I found the Bedrooms, I heard voices. The cleaning crew. My heart pounded. I ran on tiptoes to the Living in 390 Sq Ft showroom. A perfect little apartment inside the store. A large cityscape print hung behind the bed. The lighting was impeccable. I moved the shower curtain silently, stepped inside, then let out a silent, deep breath. A cleaning crew moved through quickly with floor polishers, then they were gone. I was sweating. I wondered if Jack would even notice I was gone. I stayed in the shower for 45 minutes. The lights began to go off in sections, until finally I stood alone in IKEA in the dark. I’d done it.

Now I was hungry. I stepped out of the shower and put on the fuchsia and orange robe that hung on the SAGAN stainless steel double-hook. $2.99. I left my shoes by the bed and walked back to the Restaurant. I felt lighter with each step. I wanted meatballs, but knew I would have to settle for something refrigerated. I grabbed a tray and fork, and chose a Buffalo Chicken Wrap, a carton of orange juice, and a slice of Chocolate Overload Cake. I got some Diet Pepsi and found a table.

It was so peaceful. No Jack asking for dinner. No Katie or Max needing help with homework. Just me and my dinner. Best meal I’d ever eaten. After I finished, I bused my tray and walked back to my apartment. I hung the robe and climbed into the MALM twin bed. $149. It was heaven. Organized, solution-driven, affordable Silence. Just right for sleeping.

I woke early, forgetting for a moment where I was. I lay in bed, waking up slowly. There was no work shirt to iron, no lunches to pack. Just more silence. The SUSA alarm clock ($4.99) beside the bed read 7:43 AM. I knew employees would be arriving soon. I put my shoes on, walked around for awhile. It occurred to me that IKEA must have a lot of employees. That no one would know me. That no one would notice one missing bright yellow and navy shirt. When the Restaurant opened, I had a $0.99 breakfast of eggs, bacon, and hash browns. I walked out the front door light and free. I found my red Honda hatchback, drove it to the parking lot across the street and walked back to IKEA. I needed coffee. Lunch would be served soon. In 12 hours the store would close again and I would be here. Because like the IKEA ads say, home is the most important place in the world.

3 comments:

  1. I feel like I barely have time to read these flys the way I would like (over and over slowly by myself with decent processing time), let alone give you the feedback you deserve. I do so love that you are sharing your writing like this. I had to comment on this one, because I swear I had a daydream very similar without the hilarious product name and price details. You are so funny, Ash. Keep 'em coming.

    Love.

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  2. Fabulous. I really enjoyed reading this! I could imagine her hiding out in IKEA. Well done.

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