PhotoDude.com

Wed. Sep 13, 2006

Just Another Jerker

For a couple of years now, I’ve had my eye out for a new computer desk, and my eye has found no purchase. And, apparently, for quite some time, The Jerker Desk from IKEA has been quite popular. However, until a month or so ago, it was new to me.

But not anymore. After barely surviving “the IKEA Experience,” now, We Are One.

I don’t mean to sound like I have an unnatural relationship with a piece of furniture. But this desk, it’s where I work. It’s where I play. It’s a matter of both my efficiency, and my happiness. Hell, it’s my Interface with Da InterWebs.

I know, it’s just a damn desk. An imported pile of pressed fiberboard and steel. But I’m happier. And more efficient. At least, after the number of hours it took to set it up, I’d better be. I’m certainly a very long way from where I started:

I think that was around mid-1997. Ye Olde Pentium 100 with 15 inch monitor, on a tiny $49 desk. Everything including the Mountain Dew logo has changed since then, though I am still using that same Wacom 6×8 graphics tablet (Thank the Geek Deities for legacy serial ports).

Within a year, I’d upgraded to a bigger computer, bigger monitor, and bigger desk. But over time, the bigger desk was eaten a second monitor, books, a stereo, camera gear, everything that came out of my pockets, and cables to connect it all. Years and years of digital kudzu accumulated. The bigger desk had become just like the carefully chosen background for a still life photo; by the time you put everything else in the shot, it could barely be seen.

Then came an enforced breakdown. We got new carpet in November of 2004, and it was an ordeal. I wrote about it then in “Deconstructing the Machine”:

“I’d only lived here about six months before I got my first computer, so portions of this computer desk setup are nine years old. It’s a bit like a small house that’s had multiple haphazard additions over the years, built on as more space was demanded by The Machine.”

“It started off simply enough, just the standard CPU, monitor, mouse, and keyboard. But first I added a graphics tablet, then a scanner, and then the second monitor. And when a new computer arrived to replace the old, the old one merely shifted to the left a foot or so, for backup and file storage (and it needs a monitor, too, making three). Then came the Big Ass Epson printer, which consumes an area about three by three feet when in operation, and, of course, uses Big Ass Paper you have to store somewhere as well. That’s when the Printing Wing was added to the desk setup. Soon, it had a upper deck added, as printing increased the need for large flat spaces.”

“It’s all been built up over almost a decade, covering maybe 50 square feet.”

And that was nearly two years ago. When I added the Mac last summer, well, it all got a bit over the top. A new desk became not a matter of if, but when. However, for the longest time, I simply was unable to find a desk that fit my needs and seemed like an improvement.

Then one day I read an article at Lifehacker about cord management, and that’s when I first met the Jerker desk, a product sold at IKEA. It was adjustable (I like my desktop notch lower than the standard 29 inches), expandable (add-on shelving), and has worked out great. But I have to say, despite the raves they get, IKEA didn’t make it easy.

I knew it would be another ordeal to break down the old desk and move it out, then set up the new desk. So, of course, being a wise husband, I consulted with my wife to make sure she would not object to helping me a bit over Labor Day weekend on The Big Desk Project. She agreed, so I set the logistics in motion.

IKEA’s web site shows the stock levels in each local store, and I discovered that while the Atlanta location had the desk in stock, they had none of the add-ons I wanted. I’d have to order them online. A fair amount of searching revealed IKEA’s claim that orders usually arrive in four to seven days. So, seven days before I hoped to begin, I placed my order.

All went smoothly until the end. Where you normally would expect to get a total with tax plus shipping options, you get a total sans tax and shipping, plus a promise they will contact you within 24 hours to complete the order, and give you your final total.

Of course, 48 hours pass with not a peep, so I call. Yes, they’re running behind on order confirmations, but she’ll be happy to take care of mine. She gives me the total ($177 became $255), and says my order should ship September 18 … over three weeks away.

Huh?

Oh, sorry, sir, we’re way behind on orders because of “back to school” purchases. Huh? Did the timing of kids going back to school catch you by surprise this year? And you don’t even have any option for me to throw more money at you to expedite the order? Great, thank you for a quarter-assed web experience.

So I make alternate plans to cover the three week gap between when I intend to set up the desk, and when I now expect the add-ons to arrive. Then, three days before The Big Desk Project was scheduled to begin, Susan dislocates and breaks her wrist. “The plan” instantly loses 50% of its troop force. Though quagmire may ensue, the plan proceeds.

The night before I plan to go to IKEA, I check the stock online to make sure the desk is still available. It is. Of course, when I arrive the next morning, there’s a big red tag on it that euphemistically says “This Item is Temporarily Oversold.”

So I quickly stick a finger in the ear out of which steam has begun to spout, and look for someone wearing a yellow shirt. “Excuse me, but your web site says you have this desk in stock, but this red tag is about to make my head explode. Can you help me before I spew brain matter all over the home/office department?”

It turns out the red tag (the only tag on the whole unit) means the top add-on shelf is out of stock, not the desk to which it is attached. She agrees it’s confusing, and when I offer that it is confusing enough that most people would just walk away with an “oh, well,” she actually suggests I hurry and get the desk now because they go fast. Hint taken.

If you’ve never been to IKEA, deciding on your purchase is only half the adventure. You then get to go to the “self serve furniture” area, and find the bin number in which your choice allegedly awaits, in a flat pack. I wanted a side unit for my CPU, and the web site said that my Choice A was out of stock, so I made a Choice B. When I got to the showroom, the tags claim Choice A is in stock, it’s Choice B that’s gone. When I get to the actual bin to claim Choice A … it’s empty. But there’s a stack of the allegedly “temporarily oversold” Choice B.

Whatever. I’ve reached the point in this shopping experience where I’m no longer concerned with getting what I want, I just want to get %$&#! out. I have much work ahead of me, which ends up going fairly well, all things considered. I cut my own temporary top shelf until the real thing was delivered, and got set up and settled in.

Two days later I get a call from a neighbor I’ve never met before, whose address is one digit off mine. UPS has delivered him a couple of boxes from IKEA, would I like to come pick them up? Sure enough, it’s my order … not that I ever got a notice it had shipped, nor a tracking number. Without the help of a stranger, I never would have gotten it. No matter, I’m just happy to be done with IKEA.

However, like I said, the desk itself was worth it…

...but it has also pointed out my remaining weak link … I need a new chair.