Dear IKEA, I'm intrigued, but not impressed.

A few weeks ago I took a moment out of my life to stop at the IKEA store in New Haven. I suppose it is logical that such a store with its European influence would be in proximity of Yale and the demographics that attend there. I've heard from many of my friends around the globe about IKEA products and, loving the European way, I finally walked in your store.

Yes, I was prepared by friends that once you enter you are trapped. I didn't mind this, however, because the products were new and some of them were interesting. I began to think the two of us could have a friendship. As I browsed, in fact, I bought a huge picture frame for a collaborative piece of art my students created called "Africa." Sadly, the frame was still to small so today I brought it back to the store to return it.

It was 2 p.m. when I arrived. The lady at the register who accepted returns, however, did not get to me until 3:20. It was obvious the store was understaffed and this employee was miserable. I listened to her belittle and argue with every customer before me and, to be honest, I wanted to get her a cup of coffee and a hug. BUT, that is not my job - that is yours. I was terribly disappointed by the service as were the 20 other people waiting in line. It was ridiculous - so much so that I don't think I will likely return. When I finally was waited on, my exchange was quick, but the scowl on the employees face made me sad for your company. I couldn't help that your European model of a chain store adopted American standards for treating employees. The woman who waited on us seemed sad, discouraged, frustrated and miserable. Funny, I always enjoyed my trips to Europe because customer service seemed more family-like and local. Not at the IKEA in New Haven.

I'm now calling your store Yucky-Yeah.

I thought you should know.

BRC