Night and Day

Tuesday night. Wednesday day. Wednesday night. And even Thursday morning.

Those are the nights and days I spent in New York this week. The cutie patootie nephew was out of town so this was purely a work trip. The itinerary went something like this: train, meeting, event, dinner, snooze, wake, snooze, wake, snooze, breakfast, meeting, meeting, lunch, swoon, nap, meeting, drinks, dinner, sleep, breakfast meeting, train.

See that there "swoon" after the snoozing and waking tango? Swoon. Ess doubleyou oh oh en.  Swoon on a business trip? Why, yes indeedy! It was precisely 10am on Wednesday when there was a full-fledged swoon. Let's do a quick step back to Tuesday to set the scene:

The sun was low on the horizon the evening chill was setting in when I entered the hotel. It didn't take long to realize I had stepped back in time a few decades. My first clue was the credit card swiping machine -- the ones that make an imprint of a credit card on multiple sheets of carbon paper. Shocked me. I thought they were all in the Smithsonian -- followed closely by what the desk clerk handed me:

A key! An actual room key! The room number was even taped to the other side of the green plastic thingy. Yes, taped. Not etched. Not imprinted. Taped! How ... ghetto quaint. The key even fit into a door knob. Not a handle, but a knob. Bless their hearts.

The hotel adventure got better from there. The room was teeny tiny, the bed consisted of an old lumpy mattress with 2 flat pillows, the furniture was scratched and scuffed, the radiator was difficult to turn off making the room feel like a sauna, the window doubled as the air conditioning unit which would have been better if there were a screen to keep the pigeons out, no room service, no internet, tiny thin towels, and the whole place even smelled old.

As I paced the room and tried to figure out how to get out of this place masquerading as a hotel, I snapped a few pictures for you, my pink peeps.

 

The phone and clock were on the dresser and not in reach of the bed, so there was nowhere to sit if one was on the phone or needed to reset the clock. Oh yeah. The room was dark, too.

This was the view from the door. Notice the abundance *cough!* of room to maneuver around the bed.

The work station in the corner of the room had no light and no space. If one did manage to put a laptop there it would be next to impossible to sit on that chair while working. Look - the seat of the chair is just a couple inches from the bottom of the desk! 

The window air conditioning unit had peeling paint and *gulp!* no screen. (Between you and me, I think this was for easier access to the pigeons hanging out on the window sill.) The radiator cover below had to be removed to turn off the radiator in hopes of mitigating the sauna effect.

But not all was questionable. For instance, if you leaned out of the window and looked left there was a great view. 

That's St. Patrick's Cathedral and the building across the street was Rockefeller Center. Gotta give it to this place, it was in a terrific location! If only they were in the current century.

Back to my pacing on Tuesday evening. A quick phone call to my favorite hotel in the Big City (first mentioned here) and I discovered they were totally booked. Wait. Maybe not. She put me on hold and came back with the news they could fit me in. Ohsweethallelujah. There was a catch, though. They didn't have rooms for my colleagues who were also unwittingly booked in 1970's grandeur and the current hotel had already charged us for the night. What to do? 

I did what every hotel diva who is trying to be professional would do -- I whined but I stayed the night, safe in the knowledge that the morning would bring a new hotel. 

Cue the super hero music.

Michelangelo to the rescue! Hooray! At dawn I quickly packed and schlepped the 3 blocks to my favorite hotel and was greeted by the doorman as he held the door, the front desk staff said "Good morning, Miss Last Name," I was given a key card, had a delightful breakfast, and was relaxing in a sumptuous room by 10am. Sweet holy mother of relief! The difference was like night and day.

 

 

Light. Airy. Elegant. Comfortable. Lovely amenities. (Bath sheets, anyone?) Open work spaces with internet access. Velvet couches. Upgraded linens. Classical music greeting guests on arrival. Room service. Even the ceiling was elegant! (That last photo is truly the ceiling of a hotel room.) 

Swoon!

But I saved the best for last:

Turn down service was not just simple chocolate on a pillow but an entire box of Godivas accompanied by a card from the hotel's GM! Squeal! They had also replaced the towels I had used earlier in the day, upgraded the toiletries, closed the blinds, and turned on the classical music. Ah. With the prospect of pigeons far, far away I slept like a baby. Or a queen. Definitely like a diva. The difference was night and day.

Hi. My name is Jess and I'm a hotel diva.