IKEA? ICANT.

Moving in to an apartment while starting a job looks like this:

There is a toaster, a frying pan, four spatulas, and a Belgian waffle maker on my dining room table.

The chance of me using one of them to actually make something is zero.

So out into the world I go. 

Breakfast with the roommates at 88 Orchard at the corner of Orchard and Broome. While you may want to toss this into the category of 'restaurants-so-chic-they-don't-have-a-name-just-an-address', refrain from judgement for a minute. The place is laid back and has plenty of seating upstairs, outside, and downstairs. Some people are sipping coffee and reading, others are working on their laptops, while some pairs are on a breakfast date, or a post-date breakfast ;) .  The place was casual and the pace was slow, perfect for a Saturday. The staff was friendly and and the menu wasn't full of aggressive jargon about organic, fair-trade, and saving the world one lump of granola at a time. I do love me some granola but there are only so many buzz words one can stomach early in the morning. 

One herb omelet sandwich on ciabatta with white cheddar, one plate of french toast, and three coffees later, my roommates and I were ready to tackle a day at IKEA. Let me rephrase, we realized it was inevitable and we reluctantly got on the F train to Brooklyn.

I will save the drama about my day at IKEA because there is no use dwelling on the negatives, but let's just say there is a person named Matt who works for customer service who will never, ever, be my friend. 

And now here is my lifestyle upgrade, I have a furnished apartment and I can sit at my kitchen table and drink celebratory champagne out of a Dairy Queen cup. (Where did these come from? Why do we have them? Why is there not a Blizzard in it?)

 88 Orchard

88 Orchard St.

New York, NY 10009