Fuck you baby

Last night Pancho and I embarked on our maiden voyage to IKEA. On our way out the door, I grabbed a pizza box to throw away and as I dropped it into the trash chute, I watched my keys fall down with it. After convincing Pancho that I wasnt kidding, we rummaged through our buildings trash until Pancho finally found my keys. That was totally sweet (and by "totally sweet" I mean "pretty gross").

We figured that the best time to go to IKEA would definitely be during the week, and I figured showing up at 7 (since they close at 9) would increase our chances of getting out alive. I was surprised and sad to see that the parking lot was completely full when we got there, and the store was pretty packed inside. I am definitely not a fan of large groups of people or their screaming, unruly children. Pancho and I located the things we came there for as quickly as possible, sampled a few Swedish meatballs, and got the crap out of there. I didnt even have the time or desire to wander around daydreaming and picking up impulse buys.

I immediately recognized our que to exit in the childrens department where I saw Pancho standing over a crib on display, muttering into it under his breath "fuck you baby".

I think that was his last visit to IKEA.