So, instead I hit Craigslist for kitchen carts. I quickly found that even if I were willing to go to Ikea, it would be completely foolish to do so: there are a plethora of Ikea kitchen carts on Craigslist for dirt cheap. Why pay $60, when you could pay $10? My opposition to Ikea doesn't extend to used Ikea furniture on Craigslist, but honestly, neither of the ubiquitous Ikea kitchen carts were quite what we wanted.
So, we kept looking. This one was too small, another too wide. Another too ugly, another too far away. Meanwhile, our microwave continued to sit on the floor. Finally, I was ready to call it a day, and just pick up one of the many used Ikea carts, when we found it. A nice, fairly solid cart with a couple of drawers and extra shelving.
Excited, I quickly made an appointment to view the cart. I gave my boyfriend the dimensions and asked him whether or not he thought the cart would fit in the back of our car.
"Yeah, it should," he said nonchalantly. And I, eager to pick up the cart, believed him.
I know. Big mistake.
So, we find the cart, and it looks as advertised, and is clean and in good shape. We pay the nice couple some cash, and wheel the cart into the warm San Francisco night to our car.
Where it turns out, that, in fact, no, the cart will NOT fit. We try the trunk. We try the back seat. We try multiple configurations, saying "Pivot" really loud, but nothing seems to work.
So now, we're stuck on some random street with our kitchen cart.
My boyfriend suggests we call a friend with a station wagon. I suggest we hire a taxi mini-van. He pulls out his cell phone to call his friend, while I stand on the street corner to hail down a cab. He's on the phone with his friend when a taxi mini-van pulls over. I grab my boyfriend and we explain our situation to the cab driver. The driver seems dubious about the whole endeavor, but agrees that we can bring the cart over and try to load it into the van. We run to the cart and grab it to bring to the taxi, and ... he's long gone.
Round two. My boyfriend tries to call his friend again. I head back to the corner to try and find yet another cab. After a minute or two, I manage to hail another mini van. Again, the cab driver is dubious, but this one pulls over and puts the seats down in the back. We bring the cart over, and the cab driver shakes his head. "It's not going to fit, but you can try," he says.
We tip the cart gently into the back of the minivan and it fits!! Success!!
Relieved to no longer be stuck on the street, I get in the cab, and my boyfriend follows behind with the car.
We get home and quickly wheel the cart into place, satisfied that our Craigslisting adventures paid off.
I guess that's one more advantage to not going to Ikea. While going to Ikea means you're less likely to wind up stranded on the street with a kitchen cart, you also do have to get home and assemble said cart from ancient Scandinavian scrolls. Given my proclivity for immediate gratification, it was nice to have the cart look like this five minutes after entering:
Cute, huh? Thanks, Craigslist, my microwave appreciates having a real home.