Epistles to Ikea: Why I Did Not Purchase the Full Size Loft Bed
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Hello! How are you? Though I've visited plenty of times, it's been a while since I've written. As you know, I went there today with Mom and Chrissy. I had a most unhealthy dinner of mac n cheese, fries, salmon (LOVE that apple apricot curry sauce!) and just a half of salad, not to mention the Daim Torte. (Why why why does that have to be so good?) It's a good thing you've got that giant showroom to walk around. I think I might have walked off half of the fries, maybe.
Anyway, let's get to the big story: the loft bed. As Mother so offensively put it on the way home tonight, "No offense, but I can't believe you're 30 and you're thinking about buying a loft bed." So I yelled, "Why don't you just say, 'I can't believe you're 30 you're a giant loser who can't afford to live in a big giant house, so you have to get a loft bed.'" Then Mom and Chrissy said I was too sensitive. (Duh. Like that's news.) And I said, "What else could you have meant by that statement?" And there was no answer because they didn't want to continue with my ridiculousness, but really, what else could she have meant by that? Am I right?
=sigh= The funny part, however, was when we were standing at the floor model of the full sized loft bed, and Mom said, "Bridget, uh, won't you have--what if you, uh, [then she lowered her voice] have a guy over?" And she grabbed the frame of the loft bed and began pushing it against the wall repeatedly.
What. The. Fack.?
I couldn't do anything but stand there with my nostrils flared and my mouth open. This is Betty we're talking about. Betty, for all her liberated liberal ideas, is, when it comes to sex-stuff, still quite Catholic in her thinking. And there she was, simulating me in the loft bed with someone else by moving the floor model around the floor and against the wall, vigorously.
What. The. Fack.?
I don't even remember what I said in response, I was so flummoxed by the nature of the question. Meanwhile, I couldn't help but think about that scenario while standing in Ikea, facing my mother, who had put the vision of me and another person together in my loft bed and what would that be like? I think I mumbled something about that not really being a thing, seeing as mumble mumble and that I could always put the mattress on the floor if I needed to and and and...damn dude. That-- was awkward.
Besides, I have a small bedroom and I need to use it as a study, too, and the only way to cram everything in there is to get the facking loft bed so that's what I'm doing, goddamn it. Effing loft bed. Effing Mom. Effing giant collection of books and shoes and jewelry in one effing small bedroom. Effing effing effing.
(View bed frame at:
http://www.ikea.com/us/en/catalog/products/50019950)
Anyway, Betty did get a tea kettle for me, so now I can make my coffee in the French press on Tuesday. (French press also from Ikea! Thanks! Coffee, too, from Ikea! Thanks!)
Well, that's about all for today.
Thanks for the memories, dear dear Ikea.
Your friend,
bridge AKA Birgit