WHEN I was sent to Washington to open the staff bureau in 1991, I found myself with an empty house in the suburb of Bethesda and a pressing need to furnish it without delay. I located the nearest furniture store, and was checking out the beds and dining tables when a notice caught my eye: “We do not accept American Express cards”.
I soon found out that the big furniture stores in Washington, at least in those days, tended not to take American Express. Now that was a problem. I only had an American Express card.
I asked if I could pay by cheque, having just opened an account in Riggs branch on Massachusetts Avenue, into which the Irish Timeshad transferred $10,000 to start up the bureau. I produced the temporary chequebook which the bank had provided me.
But the cheques did not have my address printed upon them – the bank informed me that would take a couple of weeks – and the stores would not accept the temporary cheques.
There was another problem. The sales people told me that even if I could make the purchases I wanted, I would have to wait some considerable time for the furniture to be ordered and delivered.
At this stage someone suggested that I should just take the cash from the bank and go to a big foreign furniture store in Virginia which was all the rage, and where everything could be purchased on the spot.
That was the first time I ever heard the name Ikea.
I went to Riggs bank, to withdraw the $10,000. There was consternation. The manager was summoned. He asked me to call back in an hour, as their safe had a time-lock. Actually, I found out later, individuals withdrawing $10,000 or more in cash from a US bank account were automatically suspected of drug dealing, and had to be checked out before completing a transaction. Apparently I was “clean”. When I returned the manager beckoned me behind a potted plant and slipped me a bulky envelope with the cash, as if we were engaged in some conspiracy.
Cash in pocket, I set off for the Ikea store in Virginia. I got an order slip and pencil at the door and went around making a note of the chairs, tables, divans, etc that I needed to furnish my residence and office. Only when I went to pay was I made aware that everything came in flat-packs. I was directed to the warehouse where my prospective purchases were located, and stacked onto two large, flat trolleys.
At the checkout desks there were lines of people queuing at credit card registers, and one lone customer paying for a plant pot at the single register for cash purchases. The attendant’s eyes opened wide when he realised that I was paying cash (the bill came to over $6,000) for the furniture for a whole house. “I never saw so much money in my life,” he gasped.
The rest of the story is familiar to Ikea customers. I hired a van outside, had everything delivered, and then spent most of a frustrating week crawling around the floor trying to fit all the pieces together. Never again, I vowed.
Next time I went to an Ikea store, nearly 10 years later, it was to do a news report. I was based in Beijing and I covered the opening of the first Ikea in the Chinese capital. I recall customers crowding in from a dusty, chaotic street to marvel at the pristine universe of minimalism, and many lingering to eat their lunch on the sofas and arm chairs.
I did however break my vow earlier this year, when I found myself in Belfast and decided to have a look in the Ikea store there. I needed a carpet for my home office in Dublin. I had priced one in a Dublin carpet shop at around €900. In the Belfast Ikea I found just the carpet I wanted, at £199 (€230).
The assistant told me that as it was being discontinued and as it had been on display for some time, I could take the
item directly from the showroom, at a reduced price of £133.
Extremely happy with my good fortune, I made my way, carpet tucked under my arm, to the checkout desk. There, after a lot of tap-tapping on the computer, an assistant told me, “Oh dear, the code for this item doesn’t appear in our system.” My heart sank. Then she said, “That means we have to charge you our special price in such circumstances – £4.99.” I walked out of the store with a £199 carpet for which I had only to pay £4.99. Needless to say I am an Ikea fan again.