Sunday, September 19, 2010

Guest Blogger: "My IKEA Girlfriend was Pretty Cool Until She Fell Apart"

"Olimpia, my IKEA girlfriend"

Guest Blogger: Allen Heckskey, Los Angeles Resident
Olimpia smelled of particle board and lingonberries.   I bought her at IKEA.
I'll admit I had mixed feelings when I opened that flat box and saw all those pieces.  I'm the kind of guy who can't put a model airplane together and I'm supposed to assemble a person?  It took three hours.   I kept messing up, like when  I realized I'd put each hand on the wrong arm and had to take them off  and swap them.  One of her eyes rolled under my bed and it took twenty minutes for me to find it.  She was a hassle to put together, but once I was done, I knew I'd made the perfect girlfriend.
She was wonderful.  Gorgeous, slim, and fun.    She never made me sit through dumb movies or musicals.  Never hauled me to cat shows or swap meets.   Never made me hold her purse while she tried on clothes. Never said "You should this..." or "Why don't you that."   Never got moody.  Wherever I wanted to go or whatever I wanted to do, she was up for it.  And she cooked the best meatballs you ever tasted.
Trouble came about six months later.   I thought it was my imagination when her skin seemed to sag at the joints.  Then we were in line for "Cyberslashing Bloodsplatterfest 3D" at the IMAX and her arm falls off!   Try fetching your girlfriend's severed arm in front of a line of people.   I duct taped it back on later that night, but two days later, her foot came lose and her knee ripped open.   It got ridiculous.   More sags, breaks and rips.  I taped her up as best I could, but it was clear her days as my girlfriend were over.  Too "high maintenance."  Plus she looked kinda stupid with all that tape.
I wasn't sure what to do with her.  I thought of putting her in the closet or the attic, but that was too creepy.   I could have thrown her away, but she was like a ratty old bathrobe that you loved because it was yours.  For now she's propped the corner of my bedroom.   It's not a total loss.  She still tells me I look "great" every morning, and never complains that I "don't take her places anymore."


Linda said...

Bravo, Allen!

Pile Girl said...

If you'd repaired her with bandages, you might have gotten sympathy from the other people in line. Of course, they also may have thought you were abusing her.

You never can tell.

Namowal said...

Hi Linda,
If you google his full name, you'll see Allen (or his did-you-mean namesake) gives his own special twist on what he does...

Hi Pile Girl,
I actually tried to be careful with this post- I didn't want to be misconstrued as "Men are shallow pigs" or "Women are objects." I just wanted to tell a silly story.