We went (early) to look at some options for a wardrobe; as I'm sure you are aware, at IKEA these are legion. However, they had the one we liked, on display, with the doors we wanted, in a colour we didn't know existed but preferred, with the shelf/drawer/hanging options we wanted, in stock and for no apparent reason, at a discounted price.
When we spoke to the assistant (who had magically appeared as we started writing things on our tiny piece of paper with our tiny pencil) he shook his head with a wry smile, beckoned us over to a computer and helpfully printed the whole picking list out for us, with the correct internal codes for the warehouse guys. The warehouse guys were all at their post, waiting to take orders; they took ours, and went to get the doors and heavy stuff. Within 3 minutes they were back, with it all on a trolley and we were paying. We went to Home Delivery (these are 2.5m glass doors, no way I'm getting them in the Scenic...) who helpfully said we could have it all delivered*. Tomorrow. Sunday. SUNDAY! We left it with them before they could change their minds and drove home, speechless.
I am flabbergasted :)
* Obviously, my innate sense of Britishness is still nagging away, telling me that they'll actually turn up on Tuesday afternoon when no-one is home with a 7ft pot plant, three stuffed crocodiles and a gross of energy-efficient lightbulbs, but for now, big up IKEA.