Don't Drink the Kool-Aid, But Try the Meatballs

One of the first, non-Japanese places I ventured to in Japan was IKEA.


This trip was practical and medicinal. The thing about IKEA, is that they're all the same. I entered the...well let's just call it a compound, and I was met with sights, sounds and smells so familiar. It was like I was home.

I was on a mission: a table and two chairs.

You see the beauty of Japanese living is simplicity. No superfluous things to clutter up your living space. This means my "furnished apartment" lacked a few things, namely a table and chairs. But the thing about being apart of the IKEA cult, is that you enter the compound with a very clear idea about what you need, but then your vision gets cloudy. Because everything is just so pretty. So pretty, and cheap!

So the table and chairs, turned into a table, chairs, two end tables, a mirror, a clothes drying rack, two lamps, two floor mats, and some bath towels. Now this is fine. This is totally OK, if you drive. Because you can throw you booty into the car and head home. I had a commuter train. So that meant I had to ship my booty home.

I pulled out my pocket Japanese translator and approached a sales associate to help me figure out shipping. She patiently waited for me to butcher her language and responded in perfect English with "Aw, that's OK. I speak English. You can totally get everything shipped, I'll show you."

Just when I thought IKEA couldn't get any better, it did.