This afternoon we head to Ikea to seek out a new office chair to replace the one I have been using for about four years. Dad says the way I sit is atrocious – I like to lean such that my buttocks are at the edge of my seat while I’m leaning against the backrest. Ergonomically the perimeter of my body ought to follow the curve of the chair. So we decide to get one that helps.

So I pick this chair that is the exact type that my brother uses. It has a rather large range of tilt, and you can lock it at any position within its tilt range. Unfortunately the model - full black, full cotton – that I want is completely out of stock. So we decided to place an order for a green one that has a different fabric, which I am not too keen about because I’m just afraid I might get rashes and other discomforts on my skin especially during hot weather. But then I can always swap chairs with my brother, as they are the of the same make, only different colour and fabric.
We place an order for the chair, then proceed to the goods collection counter to wait for the packaging to be shipped over from the upstairs storeroom. There’s this terrific lift machine – a humongous version of a dumbwaiter. Think of an automated cargo elevator. When the lift arrives on our floor, the caged door slides up, and then a huge metal tray lying on rollers directly in front of the lift door is pushed into a slot in the lift, very much like how you will push a drawer back into a cupboard. Then the lift descends slightly, and another tray from the lift – this one with goods on it – slides out where the empty tray had been standing. The goods are placed on trolleys for quick and easy transport to the customers, and less strenuous work for the staff as well. The counter is manned only by two people, who take stock orders, call for them, roll trolleys of goods to waiting customers, and press the button that commands the lift back up. Passengers are given a call number – they sit about the waiting area for their goods to arrive.

While I’m one of these customers waiting for their stock, dad goes exploring. Suddenly he calls me to leave the waiting area and follow him. We backtrack to the gardening section – and further on into a corner of the store that is easily missed from the main route. This place is called “As Is”. Rejected goods are placed here at discounted prices for customers to take them if desired. Even if they are rejected that does not mean that the goods are in shipwrecked conditions.

And I find my chair here.

It is placed in the foreground of this department, visible the moment we approach. Black, fully cotton. The very model of the chair that I want. And guess what? It’s there because of “torn packaging” – the chair is as good as new! And it’s only been there today. Its price tag has been depreciated to $100 – down from $169. So the last thing to do is to place an order for the arm rests, a set which costs $30. Yet we save $69, as the original cost (including the armrest) come up to $199.

After our purchase, upon reflection we realise we might not actually need the armrest after all. My brother doesn’t use it, so we can swap chairs. I can take his which already has the armrest, while he can take the new one which has none at all. Hopefully we can get a refund, and then it will really be value for money.