Get 8 hours of sleep the night before and muster all strength.
Enter through the exit door (there will be soup kitchen-caliber lines at the front entrance, even on a weekday morning - consider the economy for chrissakes).
Deep breath. Push forward. Literally, if needed. Don't worry, it's Ikea. Brandish your free tape measure and mini pencil.
Don't take off your sunglasses (or put them on, if it's raining out). You'll come upon a large energy-efficient-flourescent-lightbulbly-lit area, filled beyond legal capacity, not only with brightly colored strewn-about chairs, and blindingly white tables, but also with aggressive primates. Focus on the primate in front of you, and guard your position in the Disneyland ride line that will take you to the free food.
Sweaty Line Cooks will hurl plates onto the counter. Be vigilant, these SLCs are about to get laid off, and there's no guardrail on the counter.
The Free Brekkie Challenge
This here is where you'll encounter your first major obstacle. It's after 10 am (Ikea opens at 10, hullo), and you haven't yet had your coffee, nor have you eaten. You're weak. You're stressed. You're humiliated to be eating alone at Ikea of all places, when all the other Ikea losers seem to have brought their unemployed buddies with them. And their 17 screaming kids. I think it's fair to say, without exaggeration, that you're under duress.
And SLCs will be yelling at the top of their lungs. At you. What about?
About what else you can get that isn't free.
A larger breakfast.
A cinnamon bun.
Ladies and gentlemen, that's why you brought your bright orange earplugs. The ones you might have worn to your Tuesday morning spin class, when every song had the work "fuck" in it, and the yoga teacher opened the door of the shared gym wall to ask the instructor to please turn down "America, Fuck Yeah" during shivasana. Take them out of each side pocket of your jeans (your "holsters") with each hand, make pistol discharge noises pointing first one, then the other, and stick them in your ears. You're now ready for the counter-attack.
The Counter-Attack
Every time one of the SLCs yells at you, yell back "WHÄT" even louder. Make sure there's an umlaut in your "WHÄT," for greater effect.
Since there's power in confusion, you might consider throwing out a random "PJÄTTERYD!!!" which is apparently an olive motif painting created by Peter Westrup (available in the self-serve section, dowstairs), but it's close to sounding like it could be a bowel disorder, which might shake them up long enough for you to make your escape.
The Coffee Challenge
The highest potential for great violence occurs here, so stop skimming and focus for just a second.
The coffee will be gone at 10:03, before you've made it through the food line. Just accept it as truth. Assume a strategic position near the creamer and wait. Look menacingly at the other coffee loving bastards and their idiot buddies, and know they don't stand a chance. You're from the east coast. Fight for position with the SLC bringing the coffee. Make sure she's the only one who gets through. You're gold, Jerry. Gold. Fill, cream, and run.
RUN! SAVE YOURSELF!
The Confession
I bought a cinnamon bun. It was only a dollar more.
A Viable Alternative
Anyway, you could do Trader Joe's instead. It's 3 blocks away, they open at 9, there's always coffee, and today there were banana waffles. The portions are tiny, but that's good for your waistline. And if you want to get fancy, you can time your arrival(s) at the demo counter to staff shift changes and whatnot, so no one really knows how many waffles and coffees you've had.
I was thinking about bringing my huge stainless steel Sigg thermos, filling up, and videotaping their reaction.
Hey, don't bite my moves.
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