On my way to lunch today I passed a man pacing in front of the Courtyard hotel. He was growling into his cell phone through clenched teeth to whom I can only imagine was his wife. His side of the conversation went like this (in a heavy Long Island accent):
“YA NOT GETTIN A BIG BLOW-UP POOL. YA NOT. IT WILL RUIN THE GRASS, IT CAN’T BE AS EASY TO SET UP AS THEY SAY, AND YA PROBABLY WOULDN’T USE IT ANYWAY. “
I could picture the woman on the other end of the conversation. She’s tired of the heat, the kids are driving her crazy, she knows they can’t afford a real pool, and she just wants some relief. She sees an ad for a blow-up pool. Maybe it’s the one I see in magazines all the time with the elephant stepping on the pool to show how strong it is. There’s also one with a big truck running into the side wall of the pool. Or maybe she saw one in a store, and the first time she passed it she barely gave it a glance. But, the more she passed it, the more the idea took root. She began to imagine herself taking morning swims, relaxing at night in the moonlit water with her husband, and of course, escaping the sweltering mid-day heat. Suddenly it made so much sense! Why spend thousands of dollars, dig up the yard, and make a such a permanent commitment? Even if they could afford it, wouldn’t summer be nearly over by the time it was complete? Why do that when, for under $1,000 you could have a pool set up in 30 minutes?
Even though I could feel her pain, I wanted to scream, "Stick to your guns, man! Don't give in! You are right, it's a giant mistake!" I would know. Two summers ago, sick of visiting pools at apartments where friends lived, where I used to live, or just where it looked like no one might notice me, I fell prey to the inflatable pool. The video showed a man and woman (a tiny little woman, at that), and two children under 12 setting up the pool with ease - in 15 minutes. Within a few hours they were splashing gaily and grinning from ear to ear. We started setting up our pool around 7:30 a.m. one steamy Friday morning in July. Morning came and went. So did afternoon. Sometime after dark, nearly 15 hours after we started, it was finally up. I was exhausted, but thrilled. My very own pool! Nevermind that you couldn't really swim in it (it was 3.5 feet deep and like 12 feet across), it seemed wonderful to me. It was wonderful for about two days. Then it started to lean, slightly at first, and then every day it seemed to tilt a little more. About a week into it, it partially collapsed on one side , spilling gallons and gallons of water over the side and under our privacy fence into our neighbor's garden. I was so sure that it would ruin their garden, but when they returned from out of town they commented on how their squash had grown so much, especially since it hadn't rained. We pulled the side of the pool back into place and replaced the lost water, but it was hard to relax in it after that, for fear it would come crashing down again. About a week later it sprang a small leak. A tiny waterfall spewed from the bottom near the ladder. Determined and desperate I placed a Kroger brand band-aid over the outside of the tiny hole. I tell you the brand, because they must make super duper band-aids at Kroger. That Kroger band-aid held that leak for over three weeks. Talk about the little boy with his finger in the dam. Every time I looked at it, I could not believe it, but it held. And probably would have held longer, but as the pool continued to lean and lean, we finally threw in the towel and drained it. My plan was to put it back in the box and return it. Everyone thought I was insane, but I'm determined, you see. We slowly drained it, took it apart, and crammed every filthy stinking part of it back in the box. The pool had been sitting on top of a big tarp, and apparently when water sits under a tarp for about 6 weeks,it makes a mud that smells exactly like fresh strong cow manure. It was a horrible stench. It took my breath. I gagged. But somehow we got it back in the box, although not as well-packed as when we bought it. Reeking of faux cow manure, hot, sweaty and dirty, we must have looked insane when we rolled the huge box with parts sticking out of the top into the store. Which may have been why the teenage girl at the counter refunded our money without any questions. So, stick to your guns, anonymous Long Island man. You are exactly right.
“YA NOT GETTIN A BIG BLOW-UP POOL. YA NOT. IT WILL RUIN THE GRASS, IT CAN’T BE AS EASY TO SET UP AS THEY SAY, AND YA PROBABLY WOULDN’T USE IT ANYWAY. “
I could picture the woman on the other end of the conversation. She’s tired of the heat, the kids are driving her crazy, she knows they can’t afford a real pool, and she just wants some relief. She sees an ad for a blow-up pool. Maybe it’s the one I see in magazines all the time with the elephant stepping on the pool to show how strong it is. There’s also one with a big truck running into the side wall of the pool. Or maybe she saw one in a store, and the first time she passed it she barely gave it a glance. But, the more she passed it, the more the idea took root. She began to imagine herself taking morning swims, relaxing at night in the moonlit water with her husband, and of course, escaping the sweltering mid-day heat. Suddenly it made so much sense! Why spend thousands of dollars, dig up the yard, and make a such a permanent commitment? Even if they could afford it, wouldn’t summer be nearly over by the time it was complete? Why do that when, for under $1,000 you could have a pool set up in 30 minutes?
Even though I could feel her pain, I wanted to scream, "Stick to your guns, man! Don't give in! You are right, it's a giant mistake!" I would know. Two summers ago, sick of visiting pools at apartments where friends lived, where I used to live, or just where it looked like no one might notice me, I fell prey to the inflatable pool. The video showed a man and woman (a tiny little woman, at that), and two children under 12 setting up the pool with ease - in 15 minutes. Within a few hours they were splashing gaily and grinning from ear to ear. We started setting up our pool around 7:30 a.m. one steamy Friday morning in July. Morning came and went. So did afternoon. Sometime after dark, nearly 15 hours after we started, it was finally up. I was exhausted, but thrilled. My very own pool! Nevermind that you couldn't really swim in it (it was 3.5 feet deep and like 12 feet across), it seemed wonderful to me. It was wonderful for about two days. Then it started to lean, slightly at first, and then every day it seemed to tilt a little more. About a week into it, it partially collapsed on one side , spilling gallons and gallons of water over the side and under our privacy fence into our neighbor's garden. I was so sure that it would ruin their garden, but when they returned from out of town they commented on how their squash had grown so much, especially since it hadn't rained. We pulled the side of the pool back into place and replaced the lost water, but it was hard to relax in it after that, for fear it would come crashing down again. About a week later it sprang a small leak. A tiny waterfall spewed from the bottom near the ladder. Determined and desperate I placed a Kroger brand band-aid over the outside of the tiny hole. I tell you the brand, because they must make super duper band-aids at Kroger. That Kroger band-aid held that leak for over three weeks. Talk about the little boy with his finger in the dam. Every time I looked at it, I could not believe it, but it held. And probably would have held longer, but as the pool continued to lean and lean, we finally threw in the towel and drained it. My plan was to put it back in the box and return it. Everyone thought I was insane, but I'm determined, you see. We slowly drained it, took it apart, and crammed every filthy stinking part of it back in the box. The pool had been sitting on top of a big tarp, and apparently when water sits under a tarp for about 6 weeks,it makes a mud that smells exactly like fresh strong cow manure. It was a horrible stench. It took my breath. I gagged. But somehow we got it back in the box, although not as well-packed as when we bought it. Reeking of faux cow manure, hot, sweaty and dirty, we must have looked insane when we rolled the huge box with parts sticking out of the top into the store. Which may have been why the teenage girl at the counter refunded our money without any questions. So, stick to your guns, anonymous Long Island man. You are exactly right.
posted by melissa at 10:49 AM
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