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Have I Ever Told The Story Of How I Got Banned From IKEA?

 

So I posted this vine last night. I was trying to blog and the First Lady was in my home office drilling in my fucking face putting together a desk she bought at IKEA. Naturally lots of people started chirping me that I’m a pussy for letting her do the “man work” in the first place.

Well a couple things. Work is work. I don’t see life in gender roles. If you do I feel sorry for you. Second I suck at “man work”. Third she knows I fucking hate IKEA and vowed never to help with anything from that place after they banned me like 10 years ago. I’d rather pay a billion dollars for a desk than build my own Ikea bullshit. She knows that. She can buy any desk she wants, but If she goes to Ikea that’s on her. And as a side note the only reason she bought a new desk is because some idiot realtor told her nobody would buy our apartment unless I took down my hat/sneaker rack in the office and she broke my desk trying to move it. I fucking hate realtors too. Like somebody isn’t gonna buy our place because my sneakers are on some fucking rack.

 

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Anyway I digress. So like 10 years ago when we moved to Dorchester we went to Ikea. Bought so much fucking shit we needed like 10 carts to ring it up. Long story short when we unpacked everything a couple items were broken. When we went to return it to IKEA they said we were too late. I think you had 24 hours to report anything that was broken in the boxes. I calmly said that was almost impossible because we bought so much stuff. “Like you understand the more you buy the longer it takes to open everything so it actually penalizes people who buy more.” The cashier said she didn’t understand that concept. So I repeated…So you don’t understand that the more you buy the longer it takes to open everything? She again said no and I said very matter of factly “well then you’re stupid.” She then calmly proceeded to press some emergency button I didn’t even know existed and IKEA cops like parachuted in from the ceiling and kicked me out and banned me for life. That’s the last time I ever stepped foot in IKEA. It’s literally my least favorite place on earth. I don’t like putting shit together. I don’t like crowds. I don’t like deals. I’m a millionaire. Millionaires shouldn’t have to deal with that shit ever. But The First Lady fucking loves it and still sneaks there when I’m not looking, but I absolutely refuse to help assemble. She also loves selling shit on Craigslist for like 30 bucks and having strangers romp through our house but that’s a different story for a different day.