Wednesday, October 7, 2020

The Sad Saga of A 'Fun' Visit to Ikea --

 ...I guess I should say 'endured,' rather than enjoyed. 

We don't go out much anymore, due to the whole Covid-19 business. (I'm guessing you don't, either.) We were heading to Denver anyways to help out at our friend's classroom -- and IKEA was on the way. Besides, I had a $5 coupon (for use at the food market), a $10 birthday coupon and a coupon for a free frozen yogurt burning a hole in my pocket. This was going to be fun!

The parking acreage was all but deserted. (Yes, acreage -- this place is huge.) Ok, that made sense, Covid and all.

The restaurant wasn't open. Made sense, too. No problem -- we'll just head for the food area.

I took my time, wandering around the food offerings. Gingerbread cookies were out already for Christmas -- so were house kits. Kewl. What really made me happy, though, were the 99-cent dark chocolate and chocolate-with-nuts bars. These are big and delicious; perfect for Christmas stockings. Marinated herring was there -- but only in mustard sauce -- and orange seaweed, little poppers that look like caviar. (I love both; my family doesn't. Too bad -- the coupon is mine!)

Laden with goodies, I head for the checkout counter. No one is there. About ten minutes later, the clerk hurries back, puffing and apologizing. 'I had to use the restroom, and no one would answer when I called...' Her friendliness helps ease any irritation at having to wait. Then --

'I don't know how to ring up this $5 coupon. And you can't use the $10 coupon here, anyways. Would you mind going to his checkout? (pointing) He can do it for you. Sorry...'

I trudge over, but have to wait until he clears away a customer or two. Done. The Brick, who had been told this would be a quick visit, is getting restless. I give him the frozen yogurt coupon. (He's back, saying he needs the membership card. But I need it, as well, to use my $10 coupon. Fortunately, I find a second copy of the card.) 

Frozen yogurt in hand, the Brick stays with a shopping cart we unearthed near the checkout. (If you've been to IKEA, you know these are few and far between. And you have to bring your own bags -- or buy one.) I head into the main area, pick up a few glasses, then look at the folding chairs. (One of our dining room chairs lost a leg, and cracked badly near the seat. Time to replace it.) There's a dining set on display -- that will work. But no chairs are under the display. I go around the corner -- yep, more boxes. Grab one. (Another IKEA specialty: pretty much everything is packed in plain cardboard boxes, warehouse style, with a small picture on the side.) 

I take a peek at the Christmas display-in-progress (nice), go up toward the checkout -- and realize I have to stand in line, until the clerk says it's ok. (More Covid precautions. I can see the Brick in the distance, patiently waiting.) Finally, it's my turn to... stand in line at the actual checkout. Which I do. But there's something wrong -- the price is too high. Did the clerk include the coupon?

    He included the coupon, all right -- I got the table that was on display. Instead of the chair.


IKEA's Askholmen line. Just don't expect to get a chair.


Aarrgghghgh. 

The clerk still had my credit card -- could he cancel the transaction? Nope. Pointing toward Returns -- 'You'll have to go there and get your money refunded.' Meanwhile, the line of people waiting behind me for THEIR checkout were getting restless.

We're both exhausted. By now, the Brick wants to forget it, and go home. He got yelled at by an employee while eating the frozen yogurt, and ordered to 'pull your mask up -- right now.' He said, 'How are you supposed to eat it with your mask on?!?' A rude response and repeated demand. 

     (The bistro employees selling ice cream weren't addressing this problem, either.) 

I, however, have a TEN-DOLLAR coupon. I'm a Hollander. And this is the last day to use it. The sign at Returns instructs me to sign in online...or I won't get waited on. But internet/phone access is terrible -- I can't get a thing. (The store has thick walls, and the checkout area is almost subterranean. Not that this should matter...but I can barely get a text off. No internet -- no usable phone.) 

There's a long line for Returns. I give up, and get in it, dragging the cart piled with food, and now the table. Meanwhile, the Brick has gone back in to get a 'replacement' chair. The Returns people are also billed as Exchange -- so when the Brick gets the chair, we can just exchange it for the table. Right?

Nothing doing. Twenty minutes later, when I finally get up to Clerk #1 (the Brick is still wandering), she brusquely tells me that 1) I can return the table now (ok, good), but 2) we have to pay for the chair separately, and 3) if I even hope to use that $10 coupon, I'll have to come back to Returns again to get it credited. What??? When I ask why, she says, 'Well, it's YOUR fault. YOU shouldn't have purchased that table. And pull up your mask -- right now.' (The mask WAS up. My nose was out. Couldn't breathe.)

Sigh.

The Brick had a heck of a time finding the chair. (Dozens of tables, no chairs. The only chairs are in the display -- and wired in place.) He finally chooses a more expensive one, and heads toward checkout -- only to find another long line. He has to stand in this line, just to be considered worthy of paying. 




I get the refund (huffily granted by Clerk #1) and start looking for the Brick. Eventually I find him, off the distance -- but if I call, he can't hear me. (Texting is futile, too. Half a 'bar' on the phone.) Twenty or thirty minutes later, he's finally paid for the chair. I can see him -- I just can't communicate with him.


IKEA's Applaro line. A little more expensive...
the Brick is more apt to spend extra money than yours truly.

Back to Returns. I'm just walking toward the front when Clerk #1 sees me coming... and immediately takes off, muttering something. By now, we're both REALLY tired, and steam is literally coming off the top of the Brick's head. Thankfully, Clerk #2 is very kind. I apologize for not being properly checked in, and explain the internet issue. (She smiles and says, 'We've been having that problem all day.' I wonder -- what do people do if they forget their phones. Or don't, like The Mama, use the internet, in the first place?) While Clerk #2 is processing my coupon refund, the other lady comes back. I ask to talk to the manager. 

Turns out Huffy Clerk #1 IS the manager! 

I try my darndest to explain how frustrating this experience has been -- that making us wait in multiple lines for far longer than necessary seemed pointless. Couldn't a few changes be done, to make things easier? I say, "You know, two words would have been really helpful through all this: 'I'm sorry.'" The manager looks at me as if I'd grown two heads and announces, "But YOU bought the wrong thing!" I agree, and repeat that customer service should still be important. Apparently she doesn't understand what either head of this doofus is saying. "We don't like to inconvenience our customers," she announces. 

We point out that's exactly what's happened. 

Silence. 

I give up, get the name of the overall store manager. "Doug," I'm vaguely told, "but he's not here that much." (This is the Centennial, CO store, by the way.)

We leave. 


Our 'quickie' trip took nearly THREE HOURS. With the exception of the food market clerk (who was great, though clueless) and Returns Clerk #2 (polite, but scared to death of the manager), the employees we ran into were clipped and hurried at best. The manager, ironically, was the Poster Child for Rudeness. (Maybe she wanted to go home, too. Or didn't like doofuses with two heads.) 

"Was that really worth it?" the Brick said, on our long, quiet drive home. 

I wonder.

* * * * * *

The chair is sturdy and folds up -- just what we needed in limited space. Its wood tone blends visually with our original set. And it's reasonably priced. I like it. I like it a lot. The food's great, too. 

We used facemasks. Practiced social distancing, as well. Did what we were told. Although I can't prove it, I'm pretty sure I didn't snarl back through the whole process. (I did try to reason with the manager, though I don't think I spoke rudely while doing it. The Brick, who is ultra-sensitive to this, didn't think I did.)

But with no restaurant (and a bistro that seemingly doesn't allow you to eat the food you get); few clerks (and the ones who were there, pretty harrassed); LONG lines not only for checking out, but waiting to check out; limited availability to start with, and difficulty of returns...

Should we go back? 



We are open and excited to start welcoming back customers. We are doing it thoughtfully and under the guidance from state and local authorities and information provided by the CDC.

                                                           -- from the IKEA Centennial website

3 comments:

Chuck Harnish said...

You should post this on their facebook and twitter pages.

Cindy Brick said...

That's a good idea! I have a letter going to both the Centennial store and the regional office, with copies of the post included. But why not...

Thanks for the mention, Chuck. Much appreciated. (Glad you're back in your house comfortably.)

Cindy Brick said...

Letter sent to IKEA's Centennial, CO store (to the elusive "Doug"), as well as a copy of said letter to IKEA's retail CEO at the corporate offices in Pennsylvania. We'll see what happens next.

Figures...