Ikea. It’s a wonderful labyrinth of treasures, where you can find all the things you need, and about 600 things you don’t need, didn’t know existed, but absolutely must have.
Who doesn’t love Ikea? Nobody, that’s who.
If there is one thing Ikea is known for (besides cool gadgets and fun sounding names) it’s their clever ad campaigns. Remember the pitiful lamp in the rain? Start the car? Hi-larious.
But they may have outdone themselves with their ad for a discount on cribs. The deal is so good, you might wet yourself. No, but for real. That’s what Ikea wants you to do. In case I’m not being clear, they want you to drop your pants and pee on their ad.
Of course, there is more to it than that. You need to be pregnant, or at least suspect you are (unless you just like peeing on things for fun, no judgment.) The page, which will run in Swedish magazine Amelia (sorry, North America), will contain the same technology used for home pregnancy tests. Just add urine from a pregnant lady to reveal the discount you will receive on your crib.
“Neat!” says everyone reading this.
“Fucking seriously?” says every Ikea cashier in Sweden.
Now, I am not an Ikea cashier, but I find myself thinking of things I would hope a customer was about to hand me instead of a pee-soaked magazine page, were I to take on the job.
Toad, kitten, alpaca, doesn’t matter. As long as it doesn’t pee on me.
Gross? Yes. But is it urine? In fact, that may be the yard stick by which I measure everything now. “This sucks. But is it urine?”
I would rather argue with you than hold your pee. Bring it on, Ms. Let-Me-Speak-To-Your-Manager-Haircut, I welcome the delay.
Still pee, but at least it has a cap on it. Less likely for me to accidentally thumb the nasty.
I will damn sure give it a try.
Yes, this baby is all the proof I need that you require an affordable crib stat. Go ahead and pick one out, I’ll wait.
Again, but is it urine?
All right, realistically this is more likely to happen to people in the entertainment field, and giving it to an Ikea cashier is probably pointless. But I will still read that cover to cover instead of touching your pee paper.
Honey > Pee.
Is it something disgusting? Maybe, maybe not. At least, unlike the pee, I have deniability.
So, Ikea, I adore you and everything about you. I will continue to buy all the things I can’t pronounce, and follow the Yellow Arrow Road to happiness. But I might hold back my resume until this particular ad campaign is over.
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