Adventure #3, IKEA Emeryville

On July 6th, 2009, Adayah and I braved the wilds of IKEA in search of a bedside table, a better understanding of how IKEA names its furniture, and eternal happiness. Unfortunately, we came up empty. Fortunately, we did have a fascinating trip into the belly of the beast. For the sake of transparency, its only fair to let you know that the day before this Daddy Day Care Adventure, our whole family unit (me, Adayah, Nayezca, and She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named) took a trip to IKEA in search of a new children’s bed. It was lovely (and by lovely I mean I would rather have someone kick me in the balls with steel-toed boots before I ever go to IKEA on the weekend again). I had a meltdown. Seriously, I felt like a two year old. Instantly I created a fight with She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I started shaking bunk beds under the pretense that I wanted to see how sturdy they were but knowing I was visualizing shaking people. I sent a text to a friend saying I was on the brink of tears. I alienated my whole family from me. I was entirely disrespectful to some guy in the loading area who tried to help me load furniture into my car. It was awful. It was an emotional train-wreck; the kind of train-wreck where the track is shut down for weeks while investigators sift through the rubble. The worst part was that I couldn’t help it. It was an out of body experience; I watched myself morph into a monster for two hours and couldn’t do anything to change it. And you know what the kicker is, after having reflected on the trip and having some space to think about it? I still assume no responsibility for this. Totally not my fault. Obviously, I’m not particularly proud of the whole incident, but if Dan White can get away with murder because he ate Twinkies, I think I can get away with acting like a two-year old because I entered IKEA on a Sunday. Did I mention I voluntary went back less than 24 hours after, what from where on out will only be referred to as, “The Incident”?

Sigh…

1. Fun For Baby. We arrived at 9:45, which was, in fact, early, given that IKEA doesn’t open until 10. However, they do open the restaurant at 9:30, so Adayah and I shared a breakfast of bad coffee, Swedish pancakes (read: crepes folded into quarters) with dingleberries (lingerberries?), and ice water. Adayah enjoyed the grub and I enjoyed the relative serenity of an almost empty IKEA. We took in the views from the restaurant and pointed together at semis as they came down the connector from I-880 to I-80. She seemed content, even with the over anxious shoppers ogling her (going out in public with a cute baby is about as close as I’ll ever get to celebrity. Everywhere you go people fawn over you, or, in this case, the baby. Its really quite an experience, I think I’ll keep having babies until I’m well into my 60s).
As the store officially opened, I had to wrench the water away from Adayah (as noted in earlier blog entries, her kryptonite) so we could look at glamorous pieces of particleboard. We mazed our way through the upstairs display areas, stopping only at places where I remembered the “Incident”. Because the store was practically empty, and because I didn’t want to have an episode of PTSD, we went quickly. Adayah was entertained when I had a moment looking at different bedside tables and ended up slipping back into that dangerous, dark place that preceded the “Incident”.
As we ended the labyrinth of the upstairs floor, we arrived at the kids’ area, which includes toddler beds (stupid), lacy hanging things (more stupid), and toys (usually stupid). In the spirit of being a “good dad”, we stopped in this area for quite some time so that Adayah could play with the toys. As far as I was concerned, this was fine. Especially because she had blast. She played and climbed and walked and picked random things up and put them back into different places and smiled the whole time. She didn’t get fazed when some 3-year old psycho took a toy from her, and she even tried to share with that same demon a few minutes later. Best of all, she was walking all over the place (major milestone? Check).
Overall score: 9. Lots of toys, lots of smiles, no injuries.

2. Fun for Dad. Considering I had a meltdown the previous day, I’m not sure how to objectively evaluate my own experience in IKEA that morning. Adayah had a great time, which is a plus. I didn’t throw a temper-tantrum; also a plus. She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has not served me with divorce papers yet; big-time plus.
Overall score: 10. Let’s be clear, this is an extremely skewed score. Normally, I wouldn’t set the bar so low that the absence of bad deserves a perfect score, but considering the location of this adventure, I feel comfortable giving IKEA a 10.

3. Cash Money. Operating under the assumption that you are going to IKEA as a recreational outing for your child, IKEA is a cheap trip. Entrance is free, parking is free, food is incredibly cheap ($1.49 for pancakes and coffee? More on this later), and you can stay as long as you want. Brilliant! I think I’ll start going on many more outings with Adayah to corporate shitholes.
Unfortunately, once you are in IKEA, you put yourself at extremely high risk of buying things you don’t need. Even if you only go to watch your child play. You see, Adayah was having such a good time with this one toy that I ended up buying it. It only cost $7.99, which isn’t bad, but you can see how a once free outing can get nasty quick. And then she loved this 3-pack of bouncy balls, so I got that, too ($.99). It’s really bad when your child toys with your desire for her to be a professional athlete. Adayah could point to almost anything sports related and I’d probably buy it for her, rationalizing to myself that the payoff will come later. What’s worse is that you could go into IKEA, play for an hour, and leave with a $300 table that you’ll spend 8 hours putting together.
Overall score: 5. The fact that you need nerves of steel to leave without spending anything is not a positive attribute.

4. Transportation. Very easily accessible by car. The AC Transit #57 bus goes right by. In addition, there is an Emery-Go-Round shuttle, which is free (lines P, BS, CS). Emery-Go-Round serves MacArthur BART and other exciting locales in Emeryville such as Chevy’s, Old Navy, the Oaks Card Club, and the abandoned building formerly known as Circuit City.
Overall score: 8. I’d love to hear a firsthand account from someone who has actually ridden the Emery-Go-Round aside from my friend Josh.

5. Morality Content. In the fleeting moments that I wasn’t overprotectively guarding Adayah from imminent death at the hands of a Swedish-designed toy made in Vietnam, I used my time there to partake in some high-quality people watching. Throngs of people passed through IKEA, and most of them were happy! Happy to be spending their money on what everyone knows to be faux-furniture. I don’t particularly have a problem with feeling happy about buying something and I sure won’t sit here and claim to be above that. However, I like to think that when I’m happy about buying something, I’m actually excited to own the product and have faith that I’m purchasing a good (or at least decent) product. When I buy from IKEA, however, I feel quite the opposite, more like I’m looking at myself in the prison mirror and admitting that I’ve got no shot at outmaneuvering Tiny (read: buying nice furniture) so I might as well give up and get it over with without a fight (read: going to IKEA). To bring this diatribe back to the realities of Daddy Day Care, what values and morals will Adayah learn by spending time at IKEA? That we should be excited about buying shit? (note: in all fairness, IKEA should only assume partial blame for this phenomenon. Our consumption-based mentality surely shoulders some responsibility) Sorry, I don’t want Adayah growing up to excited about shit.
Overall score: 3. If Adayah does grow up being excited about shit, may she be a gastroenterologist and help those poor saps who consistently eat out at IKEA.

6. The “X” Factor. There is something about a full breakfast (eggs, bacon, and potatoes) for $.99 on the way in and a hot dog for $.50 on the way out that really irks me. And the fact that you can get 15 meatballs for less than $5. A lot of people go crazy for IKEA’s food, and I understand why. Its cheaper than fast food (well, it is fast food. To be more specific, cheaper than McDonald’s, Burger King, etc.) and tastes better. Go here for more detailed information about how you, too, could increase your chances for colon cancer: http://www.ikea.com/us/en/store/emeryville/restaurant. There’s just something about dirt-cheap food that turns me off. Call me an elitist, that’s fine.
Overall score: 4. The upside is that, apparently, on Wednesday nights, for only $7.99, you can enjoy a baby-back rib dinner. What a great place for a first date! “Hey there, I’d like to take you out to dinner at this great place in Emeryville. Its casual, and we can share some dingleberries. Whadda you think?”
Final score: 39.