turns out IKEA is Swedish for "We don't do that here"
This is old news already, but here's a short version of last Friday's trip to IKEA.
I steeled myself to expect them to be missing most or all of the items I wanted. I scaled back the number of items I wanted from six to four. I even made backup plans:
Plan A: they have most everything and I'm relatively satisfied, considering
Plan B: I pick out a set of the faux wood bookshelves in case those are in stock
Plan C: just go ahead and pick up whatever they do have and come back for the rest later
Little did I know I would have to come up with a Plan D.
The upshot was they only had two of four of what I wanted, and three of five of what I'd settle for. I talked to a manager about their meager stock. Sample questions and his answer:
Q: Can you order the products you're missing so I can pick them up?
A: We don't do that here.
Q: Why not?
A: You can order them online.
Q: Will you pay the shipping charges for me?
A: We don't do that here.
Q: Why don't you stock any of your products?
A: We don't do that here.
OK, maybe he didn't actually answer the last one like that, but he may as well have. I told him it's all well and good that you order stuff from Poland and bring it in from Jersey, but that doesn't do any of us any good if it isn't here in Atlanta. I also wasn't impressed at how long it took to restock; I worked at a shitty company that shipped in its screws and nails from China and put them on a train in Los Angeles, and then I had to wait for CSX to get their act together downtown before getting product, but I was never out of my best sellers for more than a week or two. And that was brutal.
In the end, I tried to implement Plan C, but was ruthlessly thwarted by IKEA's complete lack of carts. That's right: no carts. And because there was no way on God's green Earth I was going to lug around a few boxes weighing a couple of hundred pounds from the warehouse floor, to the cashier, and then to my car, I did the only thing I could do:
Plan D: leave empty handed.
This time on my way out, I stopped at the same Suggestion Box as before, but left a more detailed message that included my name, address, and phone number.
I don't suppose anything will come of that. No apology. No discount. No stocking of their products.
IKEA doesn't do that here.
I steeled myself to expect them to be missing most or all of the items I wanted. I scaled back the number of items I wanted from six to four. I even made backup plans:
Plan A: they have most everything and I'm relatively satisfied, considering
Plan B: I pick out a set of the faux wood bookshelves in case those are in stock
Plan C: just go ahead and pick up whatever they do have and come back for the rest later
Little did I know I would have to come up with a Plan D.
The upshot was they only had two of four of what I wanted, and three of five of what I'd settle for. I talked to a manager about their meager stock. Sample questions and his answer:
Q: Can you order the products you're missing so I can pick them up?
A: We don't do that here.
Q: Why not?
A: You can order them online.
Q: Will you pay the shipping charges for me?
A: We don't do that here.
Q: Why don't you stock any of your products?
A: We don't do that here.
OK, maybe he didn't actually answer the last one like that, but he may as well have. I told him it's all well and good that you order stuff from Poland and bring it in from Jersey, but that doesn't do any of us any good if it isn't here in Atlanta. I also wasn't impressed at how long it took to restock; I worked at a shitty company that shipped in its screws and nails from China and put them on a train in Los Angeles, and then I had to wait for CSX to get their act together downtown before getting product, but I was never out of my best sellers for more than a week or two. And that was brutal.
In the end, I tried to implement Plan C, but was ruthlessly thwarted by IKEA's complete lack of carts. That's right: no carts. And because there was no way on God's green Earth I was going to lug around a few boxes weighing a couple of hundred pounds from the warehouse floor, to the cashier, and then to my car, I did the only thing I could do:
Plan D: leave empty handed.
This time on my way out, I stopped at the same Suggestion Box as before, but left a more detailed message that included my name, address, and phone number.
I don't suppose anything will come of that. No apology. No discount. No stocking of their products.
IKEA doesn't do that here.