areyoulistening

I can now say I’ve been to an Ikea. Ikea is kind of like if Stew Leonard’s had sex with Walt Disney World and the furniture section of Sears…with a handjob from a Sbarro. Something happens to people when they cross through the glass sliding doors of an Ikea. Something profound. They become little interior decorating monsters.

Seemingly normal people will pick up something like a miniature photo organizer for their  bathroom and decide, “I need this. We have to buy this. Oh look, they’re 3 for $20. Get six of them.” I found that I am not above this disorder. I did very similar things and once I got home I kind of wondrered, “What exactly just happend?”

I haven’t tried to put together the desk or the bookcases just yet but if that goes well, I will hurry back to Ikea for more inexpensive furniture and that weird shot of adrenaline you get from walking through the huge store. If those damn Swedes, or whatever Nordic region these people are from, make it hard for me to put these things together I could be yodeling a whole different tune. However, for now I’m as a happy as the little guy climbing the mountain on The Price Is Right. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cliff_Hangers

Last night I drove down to the Walgreen’s near where I live in Yonkers to drop off some clothes in the bins for the homeless and lazy people of the world. I dumped my garbage bag filled with tee shirts that have run their course and socks that lost their partners long ago. As I was getting back into the car, I noticed there were a few empty soda cans and Starbuck’s coffee cups that needed to be thrown out. I gathered them up and walked over to the large garbage bin next to the clothing bins.

I walked to the back of the garbage bin and threw the cans in first. I dropped one of the coffee cups and when I stood back up to toss them in the bin I was face to face with a raccoon the size of a New York City taxi cab. He lunged at me and I fell completely over. I went into a tuck and roll type thingy and popped back up a few feet away from the bin. I stood there in some sort of a karate/”don’t shoot me that water gun” kind of stance.

I laughed at first and was thankful I was in a dark parking lot where no one could see me. I walked into the store to look at my hands and noticed I had to big cuts on my right hand with blood pouring out of them. I felt like a real dickhead so I walked right back out. The cou’de gra of this whole scenario is that I fell on my phone, I guess I did anyway because I woke up today and my leg felt like someone buried a steak knife in it.

The lesson here is do not donate clothes.

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