I spent much of Saturday buying a kitchen over at Ikea — the Long Island one; if you live here, you’ve got to be crazy even to set foot in the more-popular, headache-inducing Jersey location. Yes, I’m buying a kitchen from Ikea, the store that made wobbly fashionable, but hey, they’re highly recommended and super, super cheap. I was wearing my favorite Forest Hills Neighborhoodie, blue and gold with a zip-up front and “FOREST HILLS” in big bold letters in the middle. As I was filling out the form, one of Ikea’s fine “kitchen planning specialists” piped up:
IKEA GUY: Hey, Forest Hills! We do a lot of kitchens in Forest Hills.
ME: Really?
IKEA GUY: Yeah, seriously, practically half the kitchens we sell go to Forest Hills.
ME: That’s really interesting. I actually wouldn’t have expected that.
IKEA GUY: I don’t know why. It used to be Williamsburg, but now it’s all Forest Hills.
Williamsburg and Forest Hills in the same sentence? Be still, my beating heart! My theory: Just as once happened in Williamsburg, as younger, budget-minded people buy places in Forest Hills, they find their kitchens to be hideous and run to their beloved Ikea to purchase a new one. So there you have it: proof positive, courtesy of no less an authority than some guy working at Ikea, that Forest Hills is younger and hipper than ever before! Why, we’re practically East East East Williamsburg. Now where’s our independent record store?


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