Orange is the new BLEAGH!

We have a small, yet surprisingly diverse group of friends within our rural apartment community. The majority of us are 3rd-floor tenants, and a greater number of that sub-group just so happen to have our windows and balconies facing the pool, where you can currently find us every weekend.

Our group was formed mid-summer as I rallied 2 of my closest neighbors--closest in age, proximity, and like-mindedness--to play Cards Against Humanity. Although we haven't seen the original card bearer since he got bawled out by his girlfriend and gifted us with his entire collection--some of the extender packs still sealed in plastic--our group sprouted organically from that one particular night. Since then, there have been some comers and some goers, some drunks and random drop-ins, some annoying and unwelcome personalities, a couple of odd ducks, some stragglers, a bothersome Canadian, some intruders, some one-time guests, but at it's core, it remains basically the same.

As for the cards, I don't even own a set, but apparently I'm a crafty witch, as I have two original sets in my possession plus 6 or 7 additional add-on packs. I am unsure of the exact  number due to an executive decision that was made to jumble them all together with the intention to separate them when the original owner calls them home. This was done, not as a child that's too damn lazy and unappreciative to take care of their playmate's belongings, it was pure necessity; we had nearly memorized the ones we'd been playing, the most vulgar cards had become mediocre, dull and bland; we needed fresh meat! Now that summer is on it's last leg, I cringe knowing that day is on the near horizon. Ugh! What a chore that will be! I fully expect to get a glimpse into the true character of my card mates to see who chips in and who: slides out, ghosts, or feigns an STD to avoid the monumental chore. They are essentially good people, despite their: religion, home state, birth country, criminal record, IQ, and political affiliation, but they are also slightly sick and twisted with a disturbing sense of humor, and frankly, I find that quite refreshing.

The weekend prior to the Labor Day holiday, we were all extremely excited to see our pool furniture was being cleared, gathered and stacked in the grassy area, making room for our brand-spanking-new loungers, chairs, tables, and umbrellas! As dorky as that sounds, we spend a lot of time down there, plus we had been given inside information that the furniture was going to be really nice, posh even, due to the headrests on the loungers, and since there were rumors of the new collection also being really expensive, we were damn near giddy! This would surely feel like we had escaped to a luxurious resort--the only one offering solid peace of mind knowing you weren't getting burglarized while on vacation because you can see your tiny apartment from this particular oasis.

Upon returning from grocery shopping and other mundane typical Monday errands, the hubs and I saw a truck was being unloaded and the furniture, although still obscured, was being unwrapped, carefully released from it's cardboard cocoon. I was grinning like a child on Christmas morning, eagerly anticipating the bounty that was about to be mine, until I got a tiny glimpse of what Santa had actually brought me. Oh! The horror! This garish explosion of color was so aggressively bright, I tried to turn away from what was sure to instantaneously burn out my retinas, but I couldn't; I couldn't peel my eyes from the heinous scene that was to be our view for what undoubtedly will make our few remaining years living here feel like doing time, literally, for all eternity...fiery, loud, construction cone, road flare, hunting vest, prison jumpsuit, Oklahoma State University...ORANGE! Dios Mio.

With all due respect, by itself, orange cannot be treated differently than any other color. You may have been allowed, if not fully encouraged to discriminate against it in the clean-cut fifties, but not now. It's just not acceptable to have that sort of attitude. In the sixties, everything was loud, mod, and later, psychedelic, it would have fit right in, faded to the background even.  Many of us are permanently scarred by the popular hues of the seventies found in everyone's house from all that orange, harvest gold, chocolate brown, and avocado green Tupperware bullshit and tacky-ass macramé wall hangings, but even that orange was modest enough to be burnt,almost hushed. Eighties, holy shit, neon. But we're talking about clothes and MTV, not pool furniture. Nineties, flannel.  Orange may not carry the popular vote in the 21st century like red, or blue, but it's a legitimate color with it's very own distinct qualities and attributes. If you could personify it, giving it a voice, it might say something like...HEY MOTHERFUCKER!!! LOOK AT ME!!! And quite frankly, against the muted color palette of our earth-toned apartments on the plains of North Texas, that's exactly what it screams.

Watching the delivery persons put this hideous puzzle together was a bit like gazing upon a car wreck...a lot of oh no's! Oh god's! and How awful's! Stepping away from the window, no longer able to stomach the mere sight of it all, only to be pulled back to the window or balcony to parrot the same phrases over and over. Oh, noooooo. Oh gawwwwd. How insanely, utterly, ridiculously awwwwful!

After dinner, Brent and I decided to go inspect this, this, this...orange crush catastrophe. Ugly, yes, but maybe if it's comfortable, we can learn to ignore it like a red-headed stepchild. Maybe, just maybe, it will prove to have some redeeming qualities, and I will feel horrible for being so mean to inanimate objects.

Fat chance! The closer I got to it, the more I had come to realize, this is happening, and it's not going away. Not yet to the gate, and 3 balconies are dotted with people screaming, cursing, scowling. I couldn't make out their individual exclamations in full sentences, just 'shit' and 'ugly' and 'seriously?' I nodded in agreement and let them know, I would bite the bullet for all of them, being the first to fully expose myself to the orange beasts.

The chairs sat higher, the woven material was flexible but strong, the tables were of a faux stone finish, and smaller than what we had before. As I went to check out the comfort of the loungers, my neighbor, we'll call him Matt, enters the pool area & sits with Brent. Eager to get his opinion, I jokingly asked if he would be interested in taking a brief survey regarding the new furniture.

"Yeah, I have some questions of my own! Who picked this shit out? And don't give me that 'it was management' crap! I want names!" Clearly, Matt was smitten with the pool's newest addition.

"So you like it as much as we do?" I asked.

"I want to know, what the hell was their second choice?" Matt was serious.

I better make a list. I scrambled for my pen, grabbed my notebook.

"While your at it," Matt's nostrils flared, "ask them what the hell the return policy is, and finally, when are they coming to get it?"

I laughed so hard, I instantly got a 'brainfreezy-ish' headache. Then it scared me, and I panicked a little bit. Nah, I thought, it's a horrible color, but it's not capable of inducing a mini stroke. Is it? I had better approach it with sunglasses in the daytime, just to be safe.

The furniture was so ugly, it was FUGLY. Everyone hates it. Glad it's not just me bitching about it. Honestly, I bet the people without dogs that live near the dog park, the ones that complain about random barking at all hours of the night and the stench of fresh dog mess in mid-July of a Texas summer, will be offering words of gratitude, ever so thankful for not having to look at this steaming pile!!!

I was puzzled as to how this could have happened. How on earth could anyone ever think that bright orange would be an improvement to our tan, brown, gray, terra cotta color scheme, is far beyond me. Was it picked out of a catalog, shown next to a sparkling blue pool? I could see that, as blue and orange compliment one another on the color wheel, it would look great next to aquamarine water! Did our property manager see the original style in another color, and just pick this from a swatch? Because fiery orange just got her all jazzed up and excited? Knowing her personally, I can picture that also. She's a summer-lover, vacations at the beach, very sunny, warm personality, it goes with her vibe, her energy. Maybe she'd been 'day drinking'? Maybe she'd recently taken medication that has caused a change in her eyesight? OR...Was there someone there, posing as a consultant, someone who actually pretended to be even remotely familiar with complimentary colors, because I know it couldn't have been someone with: a background in design, a healthy and full mental capacity, or an iota of respect for their fellow human beings! Whoever it was, needs to be shamed publicly. You, you...vile and repugnant snake-faced pig-dog!

Many of us are guessing it was someone who got a prize for successfully unloading the ugliest pool furniture on the planet, with a fat bonus commission check, possibly awarded a mini vacation to a resort without ugly-ass pool furniture. You know, so you could actually relax and enjoy yourself.  For the sinister act of convincing our sweet property manager into this horrible decision, I have the urge to wish an equally horrible fate upon this despicable mutant, but I can't think of what could be worse than attempting to enjoy the cooler temperatures on your balcony, only to be relentlessly, visually assaulted and forced back indoors, being denied one of the most beloved seasons!

We had lots of fun, played lots of cards, drank even more alcohol, made lots of friends, made even better memories...but now that summer's over, we won't be spending so much time at the pool. Fall is officially upon us, football season will keep most of them indoors, screaming at the tv,  cheering their favorite team, and me, I hope to write on my porch, back angrily facing my orange nemesis pretending not to hear it's protest, demanding my attention. Halloween, my most favorite holy day of all the holidays will be here before you know it, and the positive side to all of this--we've already got decorations up at the pool! All. Year. Long.