|Some of you have noticed the new wardrobe. Big ups to Rick for designing the banner that brought on the redecoration.
Over the past few weeks, my bed has been making ominous sounds. During my 15hr sit in (Prison Break, season 1, episodes 1-22) this weekend, those noises grew in impatience. FINALLY, I took a look under the bed (whilst still laying on it, you understand). I searched around in the gloom for the origin of the clunks and clanks (see, not just creaks – far more ominous sounds) then I spied it. My eyes widened in fear, and I quickly spread my body weight as far across the bed as it could go – rather than concentrating it on one, structurally weakened spot.
As you can see, there was a problem. The massive metal bar that supported the weight of two sets of slats was breaking (sort of, there’s an inner half circle inside an outer half circle, and the lip of the outer one had bent as it wasn’t being held together by this culprit).
So: my options were...
- I could purchase a house that came with a garage, obtain some piece of paper that allows me to employ a homeless person who will scour the city for scrap metal, bring it to me so that I can heat it in my home made furnace, then beat and batter it into a straight piece of steel and drill two careful holes in either end, OR
- I could take my chances with Ikea.
P(success option1)~56[P(success option2)].
But, it was Sunday and there were no open homes advertised, so I went to the big blue and yellow shop. First, I found the receipt, the instructions and the words for ‘broken’ and ‘piece’ in Czech. Then I left the house. Then I returned to the house, dismantled the bed and took the offending pieces with me – in case they could exchange them then and there (the ideal solution).
An hour later, I was in the queue at the service desk. Sweating in nervous anticipation of the hissy fit I would have to throw when they shrugged their shoulders and suggested I purchase an entirely new bed - just to get three new parts.
"Prosím Vás, potřebuju Vás pomoc." I said, to the 15yr F behind the counter. "Minulý rok, jsem nakupovala moje postel, za Ikea Zličín, a miluju moje postel samozrejme! *smile and eye twinkle*. Ale, minulý tyden, moje postel byl zlomený. Mám zlomený kusy tady, a mám obrazky taky…*show photographs*. Potřebuju náhradní součástky, musíte pomoc? Oh, a tady je moje učet.""Excuse me, I need your help. Last year, I bought my bed from Ikea Zlicin, and I love my bed of course. *smile and eye twinkle* But last week, my bed was broken. I have the broken pieces here, and I have photos also *show photograph*. I need replacement parts, can you help? Oh, and here’s my receipt."
The 15y F nodded through my explanation, looked at my photos while I pointed “tady, a tady…” and then looked at my receipt and typed some things into The Computer. “Mluvite anglicky?” she enquired.
“Oui, bien sur.” I responded.
WHAT?!?!??! It seems that when asked whether I speak English, I respond the affirmative, but in French. WHY!??!
To save myself, I said, “a aussi francais, au cas où vous voudriez parler français”
Had she followed in French, I would have been SCREWED, but that’s not the point. The point was, that she said, “I’ll just go get those replacement parts for you, if you’d like to take a seat and wait over there.”
At which point, I fainted. Where was I? Was I dreaming? Was I really, truly experiencing “Customer Service”???
When I came to, they brought me a shot of Slivovice with my parts – to restore my facultative powers.
Ah yes, still in the CR.
Now I can, once again, enjoy worry-free slumber, since my bed is now unlikely to collapse the next time I roll across it's gargantuan-ness. Will - in the bedroom under mine - can also enjoy worryfree sleep. I'm THAT generous.
Labels: What to do