It's a store, not a museum.

For anyone who has been to IKEA on a Saturday afternoon and lived to tell about it, I salute you.


Don't get me wrong. I love IKEA. And when I heard they were coming to the Portland area, I was thrilled. When I found out they were going to be just across the river near the airport, it was like I had died and gone to hard-to-put-together-yourself Swedish college furniture heaven. 


Living so close — less than 10 minutes away — has its advantages. The biggest of which is that I've learned when it's best to go ... and when it's best to stay home. Weekday mornings and early afternoon is a great time. So is any day after 7 p.m. The weekend? Just say no.


But regardless of what time it is, one thing always strikes me when visiting my favorite Swedish warehouse: the slow-moving people. Be they first-timers, elderly, with stroller (or strollers), pushing carts, pushing grandma, lugging boxes, from near, from far or even from a galaxy far far away ... please remember — it's a store, not a museum. You do not need to stop in the middle of the aisle to ooh and ahh. Affordable silverware is not a Renoir. A $19 plastic lamp is not a DaVinci. And synthetic pillows in six different colors does not a Picasso make. So please, keep moving. Unless it's Saturday afternoon.