Wednesday, June 28, 2006

A Special Message From The Roosevelt Hotel

When I visited New York last year, I spent a night at the Roosevelt Hotel. And, as people have since reminded me, the 'message' I sent subsequently deserves a place on the blog. So here it is.

President Franklin D. Roosevelt once said that "the only thing we have to fear is fear itself". But clearly he had not seen the service on offer from his hotel namesake!

It is with pleasure that we welcome you to the Roosevelt Hotel, New York City. Please arrive promptly in order that we can tell you that your room is currently unavailable, and would you mind waiting three hours.

Still, never fear - we have a fully-stocked bar available all day for your beverage needs. Unless those needs should include a cold soda, in which case we haven't got any. There's a box of them around somewhere, but they're a bit warm. It is July, y'know.

This is why New York's Roosevelt Hotel has been outfitted with a small Newsagency and snack venue. Conveniently located behind a staircase in a section of the hotel you should never actually be able to see, the staff are specially trained to cope with minor inconveniences such as the till not working. Their mathematical skills are second to none. Well, that's what they estimated them at. Three hours after we asked.

When you finally make it to your room, you will no doubt be glad to escape the sweltering New York July heat, and every room has been outfitted with an air conditioning unit. This handy device will rattle, shake, moan and hum at a constant high volume to remind you that it is both on and working.

Private bathrooms are available to all guests...though we'd by lying at this point if we recommended using them for anything. Y'see, after the first flush your toilet will maintain a small leak into the bowl that will prevent the cistern from ever actually filling. Just think of this as your very own relaxing water feature! And quite the compliment to that clunking air-con unit, we're sure you'll agree.

On to the bathtub and, once again, there's no reason to imagine run-of-the-mill service when dealing with a hotel named for not one but TWO U.S. presidents. (Hey, Dave - maybe we should rename the hotel The Bush? It has the same kinda kudos, but at least people will know to be pissed off before they arrive.) The bathtub mimics the American economy by failing to keep those involved buoyant, and siphoning the bulk of its contents to unknown and seemingly unnecessary areas. Which is to say - the plug don't fit the goddamn plughole.

Not to worry - our staff will be on hand all hours of the day and night. Not to help, just charging up and down the corridors shouting at each other. Still, you can't really blame them - if their journey up to Level 9 was anything like yours, they got in the elevator, arrived two floors short, then found themselves (and another half-dozen sweating passengers) descending back to the lobby for no discernible reason, making none of the requested stops on the way.

Like you, they will eventually have tired of this routine and got out that coupla floors early and eventually located the under-lit, painted-concrete stairwell at the side of the building.

Please ascend in comfort, and ignore the mounting paranoia that the doors will now all be locked, this being primarily an emergency fire exit - for departure rather than entrance. This is intentional, and has been designed to take your mind off those worrying lurches the elevator made that caused two of your fellow travelers to scream and get off at the first opportunity.

Nothing to fear but fear itself? Baby, that guy Franky had no idea...



THIS POST IS FACTUAL. NO NAMES HAVE BEEN CHANGED IN ORDER THAT FUTURE INNOCENTS MIGHT BE PROTECTED.

5 Comments:

At Thu Jun 29, 11:19:00 am, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Crikey.

Dripping with bile, and very funny. Shame you had to experience it. Did you ever get a response from the hotel?

 
At Thu Jun 29, 11:46:00 am, Blogger sorking said...

Well, y'see, here's the problem:

I'm British.

So I didn't complain to the hotel, or write a letter to them afterwards, or ask for a refund, or any of the things a person is perfectly entitled to do. Instead I sat in my room and whimpered, lost a night's sleep, paid the bill, then sent a sarcastic email to all my friends.

Which is to say - I suck. ;-)

 
At Thu Jun 29, 03:10:00 pm, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Ahh. It really is a shame you didn't send it to Hotel Paradiso, but chances are they know they are a shower of cnuts and are coasting along until someone has the nerve to complain or commits arson.

You could also have trashed the place -then again, from the sounds of it, they might not have noticed the difference!
Well, at least you didn't have some bloke called Johnny hacking through your door.

 
At Thu Jun 29, 03:23:00 pm, Blogger sorking said...

Well, of course the character's name was Jack, not Johnny...

Hey, it's a geeky review blog, what did you expect?! ;-)

 
At Fri Jun 30, 03:31:00 pm, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Oopsie! I stand corrected. When it comes to cultural references, sometimes I just about wing it by the seat of my pants.
;-)

 

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