Last night, I stayed at what an officially Trendy Hotel in NYC. Why? Because among hotels that had rooms available, it was among the least over-priced. The result: An OK night’s sleep and confirmation that I am less hip than you or that other person standing next to you, even if that next person is Dick Cheney’s proctologist.
Technically, the Hotel QT is a nice place with clean lines and sharp-edged design. It’s a “boutique” hotel (“boutique” is hotel-ese for rooms that are what Starbucks calls a “tall” coffee and English calls “tiny”), but I got a free upgrade to a “suite.” I didn’t ask why. It turns out that a suite at the QT is a single room that would count as small at a normal hotel, with space for a bed and a tray-like thingy that works as a desk, as well as a bathroom with separate segments for sink, shower, and toilet. There’s a small pool in the lobby, and a free breakfast that I missed because it starts at 7am, and I was out by then. Also, there’s free wifi. Yay.
So, when the pleasant, young clerk asked me how my stay was, I resisted saying until he insisted. My short list of nitpicks each pegged me as fabulously untrendy:
1. The little bottles of shampoo and conditioner are indistinguishable except for their small labels. Unhipness revealed: I need glasses to read labels. Or maybe trendy folks wear their glasses into the shower. I wouldn’t know.
2. The shower head is more than a foot in diameter and is fixed directly above you, like a lamp over a pool table. This is not very practical for cleaning downward-facing parts of the body. Unhipness revealed: I favor function over form.
3. The outside wall of the shower consists of a window, the bottom half of which is frosted, but the top half of which is clear, enabling me to wave to the office workers across the street. Unhipness revealed: I am hung up about my body.
4. The bed is on a platform that juts out about six inches into the small space between it and the outside wall. The platform is brown. The carpet is brown. I have a bruise on my shin from walking into the platform. Twice. Unhipness revealed: I am a klutz.
5. I believe I was the oldest and ugliest person in the hotel. I’d appreciate it if the hotel would remedy this in the future by installing some even older, uglier guests. Thank you.
Categories: Uncategorized dw