Tuesday, September 28, 2004
Customer Satisfaction
I went to IKEA on Friday night. The glamourous life for me, oh yes. Before I'd even got there I was vowing I'd never go again.
But lo! I have been thwarted. I must return. To schlep across London on public transport, to breath the delights of the North Circular, to admire the car park and navigate my way through the labyrinth of the actual store.
I spent my Friday night collecting the chair legs I'd waited almost 3 months for. Only to get them home and find one set was a dud. So I must return. To get a replacement.
Oh and maybe a hotdog.
But lo! I have been thwarted. I must return. To schlep across London on public transport, to breath the delights of the North Circular, to admire the car park and navigate my way through the labyrinth of the actual store.
I spent my Friday night collecting the chair legs I'd waited almost 3 months for. Only to get them home and find one set was a dud. So I must return. To get a replacement.
Oh and maybe a hotdog.
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