Once more, with feeling

So this morning, after a leisurely awakening, Gaby reached for her phone and engaged in what has become a daily ritual for us: calling up the Portland IKEA store and using the automated inventory function to check for the presence of our dream mattress. Apparently, it's many other people's dream mattress as well, because the store has not been able to keep it on the shelves for weeks.

On our first trip up to the store, we spent some time trying out the display beds (though we were mostly just being lazy after walking around the showroom for an hour), and settled on the Sultan Heberg, a mattress that has the twin advantages of being comfortable and costing only $130. Clearly, we were not the first to reason in like manner, because we almost got laughed out of the warehouse when we got down there and breathlessly asked where to find the Sultan Hebergs. (The length and intensity of the mirth this question provoked led me to immediately suspect that it had nothing to do with my half-assed attempt at pronouncing "Heberg.") And just like that, our hopes of driving home that day with the dream mattress were frustrated.

It has now been several weeks since that first trip, and every morning upon waking up on the noisy queen-sized air mattress that we somehow wedged into our full-sized bed frame, Gaby has faithfully muttered some swear words unfit for polite conversation, and then placed an immediate call to Anna, the friendly robot customer service agent for IKEA. Once or twice, Anna has given us the good news that the Hebergs had arrived at the Portland location, but by the time we got around to making the trip across town to the store (usually after my classes let out for the day), without fail there had been another run on the warehouse and the dream mattress was out of stock again. So when Gaby made the call to Anna today, and heard the good news, we knew there was no time to waste. No time for showers, or brushing of teeth. Hardly enough time to pee. Within minutes, Gaby had herded me into the car and we were zipping up the highway toward the big blue box of a building with the Swedish flag out front. An hour later, the taste of victory was sweet. We now have a proper bed, and Gaby has promised to stop saying such nasty and rude things until at least 10:00am

Incidentally, we also determined today that, because we have been unable to resist the call of the IKEA restaurant and cafe (mmm . . . . fika) on each of our several visits to the store, we have eaten there more than at any other restaurant in Portland. Does this make us sad, pathetic people?