Wandering through an upscale mall after dropping my wayward Mac at the Apple store for rehabilitation, I was seduced by a bright orange tee shirt hanging on a sales rack; its vivid hues beckoned me into its place of hanging. In a moment of frivolity, the shirt was purchased and then summarily hung in my closet of no return. It was rather nice in comparison to those Old Navy tee shirts, my faithful companions over the past ten years.
Fast forward two days later. I venture into a grand Century City high rise for a business appointment, wearing the spanking new garb of choice - maybe a tad bright for the sober business world, but for an artist, a forgivable wardrobe choice.
As the uber-tight security person checked me in and ushered me a pass to the 48th floor, another woman ventured up to the desk; lo and behold, she too was wearing a bright orange tee shirt of bold design.
Surprised to see such display of color in this steel and marble environment, I remarked, "Hey, orange is the new black! Great color, isn't it?"
Without skipping a beat, she replied, "I got the memo."
Here I was, a 60's counter-culture girl disguised as an aging woman, and this lady caught me off-guard. She may have been wearing bright hippy orange but her response reeked of business world lingo. Nonetheless, it was business world lingo with a twist of humor. (They are human afterall?)
Floor 48: a large conference room overlooks half of Los Angeles and beyond, perched at the upper reaches of the skyscaper. As I wait for the appointed man in gray to arrive, his assistant appears, offering a cup of coffee. Lo and behold, she too wears that same bright orange, never-to-be-missed-in-the-woods color. She did not disappoint me, however, when my remark about the similar colors drew a smile and an "oh wow" response. Ever the chatterer, I related the funny remark of the lady in the lobby, who had "gotten the memo." We both laughed.
Then in walked the man in gray. Now totally convinced that the flow of the universe was rushing straight through me, I boldly asked Mr. Suit, why are you not wearing orange?
He replied with a straight face of easy grace, "I didn't get the memo."
Fast forward two days later. I venture into a grand Century City high rise for a business appointment, wearing the spanking new garb of choice - maybe a tad bright for the sober business world, but for an artist, a forgivable wardrobe choice.
As the uber-tight security person checked me in and ushered me a pass to the 48th floor, another woman ventured up to the desk; lo and behold, she too was wearing a bright orange tee shirt of bold design.
Surprised to see such display of color in this steel and marble environment, I remarked, "Hey, orange is the new black! Great color, isn't it?"
Without skipping a beat, she replied, "I got the memo."
Here I was, a 60's counter-culture girl disguised as an aging woman, and this lady caught me off-guard. She may have been wearing bright hippy orange but her response reeked of business world lingo. Nonetheless, it was business world lingo with a twist of humor. (They are human afterall?)
Floor 48: a large conference room overlooks half of Los Angeles and beyond, perched at the upper reaches of the skyscaper. As I wait for the appointed man in gray to arrive, his assistant appears, offering a cup of coffee. Lo and behold, she too wears that same bright orange, never-to-be-missed-in-the-woods color. She did not disappoint me, however, when my remark about the similar colors drew a smile and an "oh wow" response. Ever the chatterer, I related the funny remark of the lady in the lobby, who had "gotten the memo." We both laughed.
Then in walked the man in gray. Now totally convinced that the flow of the universe was rushing straight through me, I boldly asked Mr. Suit, why are you not wearing orange?
He replied with a straight face of easy grace, "I didn't get the memo."
No comments:
Post a Comment