Ikea

Now don't get me wrong, this is a great store. It has some lovely products at reasonable prices.
Taf and I had heard horror stories about shopping there, but didn't really believe it. Anyway, we needed a desk, so off we set to Ikea one Sunday morning. Bad move. The off-ramp from the M32 was chocca - all going to Ikea. The car park had a queue to get in. Once in, there is a travellator to take you to the shopping. I'm not joking, half of Bristol had decided to have an Ikea experience. It was a nightmare - wall-to-wall people. The shop is larger than 4 Warehouse Stores combined and it has 2 floors. You have no choice but to follow the allocated path round. If you are mad enough to want to look at something, it is a fight to get to it. When you've decided what you want, you then have to go and find it in the warehouse part of the store. Big problem - we couldn't find the way out. By this time, I'm on the verge of a panic attack, so Taf did what he always does at times of max stress - went for a pee. So I'm left at the top of the travellator, (incoming only) which is spewing forth more of the Bristol population, trying to remember to breathe. After we found our desk in the warehouse (last one, slightly damaged box, but dammit, we are NOT going home empty handed), we joined the queue. By golly, my compatriots know how to queue. Half an hour standing in the line gives you a good chance to look at what everyone else is buying. We were really amazed at the crap people buy - we couldn't even tell what some of it was. Well, we eventually got out intact with our purchase precariously perched on the trolley - can't get down the down travellator - purchase is too wide. So we do battle for the lift. Had to be sneaky and devious, but finally made it.
The moral of the story? Go to Ikea at 8pm on a Monday. Have a list of what you want to purchase. Take sandwiches and an oxygen bottle.
I haven't the heart to tell Taf that I've seen some bookcases there that I really must have...