The best thing to come out of Sweden (since ABBA)!

I have been to Ikea a dozen times but never with another man. Its always been with my wife, on missions where she is the pilot and I can best be described as the stewardess: I cannot control where we are going or for how long, my job is to keep the crew happy and serve the meals on time. You can tell where a relationship is by closely observing couples go about their business at an Ikea. There are four basic types:

1. The student-roommates: They are barely out of their teens and can be found examining futons and cheap lamps. They exhibit a joy that comes with new found freedom to make their own decisions without mom and pop.

2. The newly hooked-up couple. Their shopping has an aimless meandering quality to it, the trip as much a date as a quest for furniture. He shows great interest in the fabric on the couch and she wants his opinion on vases and fitted sheets.

3. The newly married couple: He is still by her side but now the blackberry comes out at regular intervals. He has figured out that it is not his opinion but only his approval that is sought. He gives this enthusiastically while glancing admiringly at the only thing that seems interesting: The flat screen TVs displayed in fancy media consoles.

4. The breed to which I belong:. Wife leading the way, pencil and measuring tape in hand, husband lagging behind with a kid in his arms on in a stroller. All pretences have been jettisoned for harsh practicality. Get in, get exactly what you need and get out. Positions get reversed at the warehouse where the Mrs handles the kids while the man of the house struggles with heavy pieces of packaging under the watching eye of Judge Judy.

And so it was a pleasure to visit an Ikea with another man. He wanted some advice on designing a media center and I obliged (after the necessary clearances from the Home Ministry). We discussed the merits of sliding doors over the hinged variety, we huddled over a computer and tried to put together a custom design. We tried out chairs that would be impractical for a home, we checked out executive desks even if our own home offices couldn't hold anything bigger than a coffee table. We even had a few peaceful moments when nobody spoke and it was not because we had fought or did not agree on which shelving to buy!

We spent three peaceful hours at Ikea and I did not hear one complaint when I got home. She felt a certain security in knowing where I was for those three hours, thinking that there was no way I could have had a good time. After all the food court does not serve alcohol and the TVs on display do not show the weekend game. Dancing poles do not magically appear out of the floor with Swedish models gyrating to re-mixed ABBA tunes.

Now all I have to do is convince my friends that this Ikea trick actually works. We can all coordinate our trips there and then hangout. We could use one of the kitchens on display to sit around and catch up. Or we could even bring along our laptops and watch Netflix while we pretend to check out the desks in the office section.

I just might have found the perfect getaway spot! This might become a place of last resort for me. When the going gets tough, the tough make a trip.....to Ikea! Maybe I can convince Tiger Woods to join me......last I heard he had lost faith in all things Swedish!