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Writer's pictureLeah Jones

Ikea–the suburban mecca

My parents have always known that there is an Ikea in Chicago and on Sunday morning they called to say that they would like to go to Ikea. So we brunched at Pauline’s (two diners down, one to go) and headed west on Lawrence to I-90. Even with my carefully drawn map of the parking lots and roads around Ikea, we had some trouble getting to the parking lot.

Eventually, we got there and parked in the second orbit of spaces. We spent the next few hours looking at furniture, fixtures, lampshades, and assorted nick-knacks. Eventually, the power of Ikea proved to be too much and we left with a fairly small purchase and a catalog. My parents are going to study the catalog and return in the spring with a plan of attack. Start with swedish meatballs on the thirdfloor and start the counter-clockwise traveling.

The most exciting thing happened on our way to check-out. A girl in front of us got her shoelace stuck in the escalator. She was stuck and the escalator was full. I hit the emergency stop button while my mom and all her friends starts to panic. Then everyone walked away. She was unstuck and we had a nice little adreneline high. And now I know what happens when you hit the stop button.

The escalator stops.

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