[ WP ] You have been evicted from your home , but rather than live on the street you go to Ikea . At night you hide in the bathroom until the janitor leaves , then you exit the bathroom .

11:00 P.M.: the large team of janitors have finally cleaning up the six floors of the IKEA store, two hours after closing time. The bathrooms are the first areas to cleaned, and the janitors usually don ’ t enter an area they cleaned already, so it ’ s safe to hide out there immediately after until they leave. I waited thirty minutes after the main lights went out, then stepped out into my personal furniture playground. 
 
 After a trek to the Swedish kitchen, I microwaved a couple of VÅFFLOR waffles, warmed up the soft-serve machine and cracked opened a jar of Lingonberry preserves for a late night à La Mode. Kicking my feet up on a cushy TIMSFORS swivel reclining chair and turned on the 56 ” plasma display television. 
 
 Getting kicked out of my apartment was actually a blessing in disguise, my job at IKEA would provide me with food and shelter rent free, and I don ’ t even have to commute. I had full reign of the kitchen and my pick of the comfiest beds and furniture known to man. Now that I didn ’ t have to pay for food or living expenses, I found myself with an abundance of cash which I can use for more useful purposes, like Netflix. 
 
 Halfway through watching “ Road House ” I heard a sound. My heart jumped and muted the sound. I listened closely, “ Hello? Is anyone there? ” a faint voice called out. They sounded scared, not like they were looking for intruders. I hesitantly made my way to the source, on a lower level. I finally reached the warehouse floor, and saw a man wandering around. He looked like an average customer, only with very unkempt hair and wearing tattered, dirty clothes. 
 
 “ Who are you? ” I yelled with some authority, thinking I might pass myself off as a security guard. The man whipped around with saucer-wide eyes. 
 
 “ Oh thank God! ” he jogged over to me and gripped my shoulders, “ I ’ ve been trapped in this Hell hole for two days now! I have no idea how to navigate my way out of here, but now I ’ m saved! ” He began to hysterically giggle and pulled me into a tight uncomfortable hug. 
 
 A second later he gasped, “ Trevor! He ’ s still out there! ” and broke away from the hug. 
 
 “ Wait, who is Trevor? ” 
 
 “ My boyfriend! ” He spat an inch away from my face. His voice began to elevate. “ We came together to pick out furniture for our first place together. First we disagreed on what kind of lighting we wanted, then we had a fight about what style of dinnerware set, and then the type of toilet paper holder, and then – “ 
 
 I held my hand up to his face, “ Hey! Calm down. It ’ s IKEA, all couples fight here. Now where did you see him last? ” 
 
 “ We got separated in the textile section ” I took him up to the third floor and found another shabby looking man with a long shaggy beard. Upon seeing us, Trevor raced to his boyfriend, “ Martin! ” and the two embraced, all the while uncontrollably crying and apologizing. 
 
 Trevor looked at me, “ Thank you so much! I don ’ t know how we would have survived without you! ” 
 I smiled at the two of them, “ That ’ s the problem, you ’ ve been trying to survive in IKEA, when you should ’ ve been living ” 
 
 A half hour later the three of us had a tray of hot cinnamon buns, Trevor and Martin snuggled on a NORSBORG sofa and me in my recliner, all of us rooting for Patrick Swayze.
