The normal checkout procedure in the Ikea follows the same formula all over the world. After the customer thinks he / she is satisfied with his or her intended purchases, Ikea requires the client to go down into its storage facilities and collect the packages him or herself. Once down, the customer is supposed to find the required items through a numbered shelf system. The only thing the customer has to remember is what item is in on what shelf.
Ikea understands putting the average customer in charge of keeping track of what item was where, may not result in the most optimal sales figures as there are a lot of numbers to remember (sometimes as much as three (!) per item). So they provide customers with a little notebook and half a pencil (a full pencil is a waste of precious potential furniture material). This reduces the challenge for the customer to the capability of reading his / her own handwriting (usually only a problem to those who hardly use the pen anymore, i.e. me).
Once the shelf and item is located, the customer can claim the item. Depending on the size of the soon to be interior improvements, the customer drags the cardboard wrapped bundle out of the shelves, optionally dropping it on his or her foot, and engages in an awkward dance to get the item correctly positioned on the cart. Usually the cart doesn't quite cooperate and starts to roll slightly out of range of the customer and his or her cardboard-packed prize. If the customer is accompanied by a significant other customer, the significant other is entitled to make useful remarks about how clever the taken approach was. The latter will result in a very entertaining ride home (*).
Packed with a cart full of items, the customer then heads towards the checkout. The checkout is invariably manned by a collection of bored students provided by the local university. Purely for variation, Ikea will put a very very very slow and not so clever 'checkout specialist' in place that always seems to make a ton of pricing errors regardless of the number of items. The idea is to make the customers understand, there are worse things than bored students handling your money.
As soon as the customer has paid, he or she may have the 'option' to have their stylish Swedish furniture delivered to them, instead of dragging it to their homes themselves. Sometimes this is even mandatory, as some items need to be ordered. Regardless of what the customer paid at the checkout, the Swedish Furniture Empire appears to feel that the customer should be happy that they will 'only' charge a modest delivery fee somewhere between a 'mere' $49.50 to as much as $227.50 (**).
Having paid already, Ikea apparently feels comfortable enough to dictate all the other terms of delivery as they see fit. The Blue Yellow Team requires the customer to provide them with a four hour window at any designated day. Sure, the customer may get upset, but what is he /she going to do ? Return the items after committing all that effort in retrieving the packages from their shelf system ? Loudly discuss the rather imbalanced distribution of interests with a student who couldn't care less ?
For hypothetical purposes let's something happens: say a flaky landlady who doesn't provide a key to an apartment where the delivery has to take place. This very hypothetical situation puts the customer in a very 'interesting' situation as the customer now has to coordinate the delivery through a group of people called the Ikea Customer Service group. These handpicked cream of the crop human beings, excel at being capable of less than nothing, with the possible exception of being in an eternal state of PMS – even the guys. It is an established fact that these people:
- Do not know the terms of delivery and will make up the terms as they go, claiming that whatever they say is in the contract the customer signed.
Cannot move the delivery, cancel the delivery or change the delivery location at any time prior to the delivery.
Despite living in 2007 where every 12 year old owns a mobile telephone to stay in touch with his homies, the Customer Service people have absolutely no way of getting in contact with the truck.
Are incapable of solving anything and will pass the buck to departments which are in an ever lasting state of maintenance ('I cannot reach the Delivery Solutions right now, they're in maintenance').
Will offer a 'thank you and have a great day' despite the fact you made it abundantly clear you're day is anything but good.
The fact that any furniture does end up anywhere is only, and exclusively thanks to:
- Understanding truck people, who are equipped with mobile phones and do understand how to drive around two blocks.
- Very friendly neighbours who own big pick-up trucks.
(*) Note that as far as I know, this never happened to the SO and me. It is inspired by a similar scene of a man and woman buying a door at the Gamma (a Dutch tool shop).
(**) I base this last number on what I seem to remember, but since their price table page is down at the moment I feel I can make up whatever number I feel is appropriate.
By popular demand: a shot of a not so sober night in one of the Vancouver pubs. Two random coworkers show their best side (happy now Lux ?)
