Damn Ikea! I bought a a third set of bookshelves for my ever- expanding, out of control, collection. It promised “easy assembly.” It lied. It assured me that no additional tools were needed. The included allan wrench was sufficient. It lied. Again.
Getting it out of the box was the first challenge. I swore as you dropped it on my foot and the end of the box scraped my shin. And swore again when I scratched my hand on a box staple. At least I had the opportunity to expand my expressive vocabulary. It didn’t tell me that I needed protective pants, work boots, and gloves. I wondered if I should get out my safety goggles.
Success! I removed the shelving from the box without broken limbs, black eyes, or other mayhem. The next stage of the project began: assembly. Obviously, the directions were written by someone who was drunk, high, an engineer or possibly all three. Insert Part A into Part B and secure it using bolt X. Using screw Z, attach part C to Part D at an impossible angle that cannot be achieved by a human body. The pictures were worse. Kindergarteners could draw clearer images. Ikea didn’t mention that I needed three hands either.
The damned wrench doesn’t work! Of course not. It jumped from the screw and smacked into my hand. That hurt. At least there was no blood but that’ll leave a mark anyway. It was time to find the real tools from the “in house” tool kit I have for small repairs and unfortunately assembling various purchases from stores. Where in the hell was the Philips head screwdriver!? Did one of the ferrets take it?I grumbled as I searched. Note to self: the words “some assembly required” is a euphemism for a day of frustration where I may, or may not, accomplish the task. Additional note: don’t buy anything with that warning again. But I knew that I would in the future. Ikea was all I could afford.
I found the screwdriver in the couch along with a hammer, five pairs of socks, two small stuffed animals, an insole from a running shoe, and my car keys. I was hunting those keys for days. It was the typical ferret stash. Annoying little not- rodents. Nothing was ever safe from their felonious hiding hobby. I cleaned out the stash and returned to my project.
The frame fell apart while I looked for the screwdriver.. Of course. More creative expressions.. Great, now I had to align the holes again. “Screw Z. Screw U is more like it.”. I made sure the sides of the frame were flush together and tried to line up the holes before carefully inserting the screw. It only went in part of the way before it veered off into some crazy angle. I muttered more colorful language as I removed the screw to try again. If this was “easy assembly” I’d hate to see their definition of “hard.” Damn Ikea!
Mission accomplished! The frame was fully assembled. Now, I only had to move it from the living room to my bedroom. Whack! It slammed on the top of the doorway. The bookshelf fell sidewise. Of course it doesn’t fit. I shifted it slightly and pulled my trapped bruised and bloody free. It’s not worth it. I grabbed the hammer and “carefully unassebled” the bloody project. There’s nothing wrong with stacking books.