Short Story Sunday

I really just don’t care.

It’s Sunday. It’s proverbial errand or lay around day. Depending on your personal life status the day can go either way. I happen to be in a relationship, which means it’s errand day. The errands aren’t mine they are my significant other’s and being the boyfriend I oblige and I tell her I’ll run the errands. Where are we going?

IKEA.

The Swedish mess that is IKEA leaves a sour taste in my mouth. It’s a furniture store that sells pre-assembled furniture left for the common man to assemble. It’s an interesting store because it spans the range of college dorm room to upscale sleek. It’s also a store that makes you think you “made” something. But you don’t make anything at all in fact we’re falling into a trap. Although it’s advertised for cheap it’s not that cheap. The concept of going to a store to buy something that isn’t made, take it home, spend hours making it just baffles me. Whoever thought of this business model is a simple genius, and there is a good chance I’m jealous.

My girlfriend preps me for the IKEA trip and like any shopping trip I need a objective. I just can’t go shopping, there has to be something in sight, a goal that must be obtained. Personally speaking I love new and good things but I don’t like to go and get them. The mass crowds give me anxiety. The monstrosity that is IKEA is what I fear and I skip buying things to avoid shopping.

“What are we going for?”

“I need a desk.”

“Just one desk? Anything else?”

“Maybe another one, it’s for my office.”

I know where this is going, that maybe means we’re going to get more stuff. A few deep breathes and I’m ready to go.

We’re in the car looking for parking in the underground complex and as planned the parking situation already is a hassle. The mess begins. The slow car in front of us can’t make up his mind and he’s deciding to maybe park in a spot but maybe he can get closer. I of course speed around and park at any open spot, I just want to get in and go.

Inside this mass building that resembles a closed off Disneyland are showrooms that lead to inventory, inventory leads to showrooms, again and again. They’re all filled with mass amounts of people who I think are out to make my shopping a difficult experience. Little do they know I am ready for this, sort of.

My mind morphs the people into obstacles and I’m just trying to navigate my way through the maze of things and make my way to the desks. I barely talk to my girlfriend who is practically running to keep up with me, I just can’t stop I need to keep moving. In reality I had no idea where I was going, I was leaving one territory to head to exactly the same thing. I was hoping that fate would put me to where I needed to be but it wasn’t happening, finally I turn to my girlfriend.

“Do you know where we’re going?”

“I’m just following you.”

Dammit, the one response I didn’t want to hear. I took the lead and now I need to lead but I have no idea where I’m going, this is the Blair Witch of shopping, one dead end leads to another.

Eventually after a tour of showrooms we find what we need, the desks. But they’re not just desks, they’re the pictures of the desks with descriptions and information I just didn’t care about at the time. Quickly, I can feel myself becoming bitterer,  and I dislike this feeling because I’ve put myself in this position.

My girlfriend now cannot make up her mind. The desk we have come for is no longer the desired purchase. I eventually chime in and try to help, I of course suggest whatever the cheapest thing is and try to get the show moving. She examines the color, size, make, and everything else a responsible person would do when buying something.

I’m in the corner practically shaking because I want to go and she knows this, I can tell. I’m doing my best to make this shopping experience work but the walls are now starting to close in on me. Her inability to just get something and my inability to allow her is about to meet its boiling point.

I crack.

“I’ve had it, this is ridiculous. Nobody is helping us, I’m going to have to build this thing! This is the most ridiculous thing, let’s just order something and have it delivered to us already built!”

“I’ll build it, it’s fine and I need it tomorrow. I can’t wait.”

Stop being so calm! I walk away like a 12-year-old pouting child, and although I knew I looked ridiculous I kept walking. I imagined if people saw me storm to where I was marching there would be no question as to what just happened. I lost my cool at a furniture store.

Having rage is a mystery to me because for the most of it we don’t care how we look when we’re enraged. The adrenaline is moving so fast apparently the brain can’t keep up. The body and child form comes back and a grown up adult temper tantrum ensues. As an adult we live by the new laws of life that reacting like a baby no longer is a good thing. It ‘s a raw form of emotion and reaction yet we look so silly, adults should have control.

I found myself sitting on a couch that was placed in a showroom. I watched people pass as I guessed which man would break next, I can’t imagine it will be a woman. But at this point anything is possible. I was immediately upset with myself for handling the situation the way I did, I abandoned my girlfriend and looked foolish. I definitely lost my cool. I was determined to regain composure but I must figure out this obvious hate I have for shopping. Why do I fall into the man cliché of shopping?

As more and more people passed it hit me: I just don’t care about certain things. These are all objects that can be disposed of, and it’s just a possession. I don’t like possessions all that much. Now thinking about it, I really don’t care about things that don’t care about me. I took it to the next level: I’m not just talking about random objects, now I’m thinking about people. I just don’t care about people. When did I become this person? My inner bitterness has surfaced, and the ides of myself have just changed.

I don’t like people who aren’t open minded and I’m afraid I’m falling into this category. I keep trying to cough this up to be an IKEA thing but my gut tells me I’m an extremely cut off person when it comes to accepting things I’m not sure about it. My knee jerk disdainful side comes out. Alone on my IKEA couch I contemplated how much effort I’m willing to put into different avenues of my life. What am I willing to give?

I may be over reacting because this is all about a desk right? Maybe, but I can’t hide the fact that I really just don’t care about a lot of things that don’t pertain to me. Selfish- yes. Do I care-no. But deep down I don’t want to be this person. I want to love and accept more without making a instant negative judgment.

I’m finding my girlfriend through this flood of people. Walking back to her I’m aware I need to open certain internal avenues up. I need to care, I need to take a more active interest with ideas and people before I completely close off, because I am so afraid to close off and not know it. When I see her my eyes light up at how tough she is to endure this shopping, she’s trying at least.

“Did you cool down?” She says.

“Trying, sorry”

“It’s okay. Where did you go?”

“Over there”

“What did you do?”

Without hesitation I say:

“I really don’t care to talk about it.”

And we didn’t.