Sometimes a hotel is just a roof and a door; you check in, head up, flop, snooze, awaken, shower, check out and that’s all, folks. This is true even for some luxury hotels. You barely remember some of ’em.
But we checked into the Hilton Fashion District at 152 West 26th Street with a spare beat-up suitcase full of clothes, personal items and bric-a-brac, along with the usual traveling items one shleps.
It just so happened we needed a box, a big fat roll of tape, a pair of scissors and a magic marker to send these items, retrieved from a Philadelphia storage unit – don’t ask – back to Casa Da Luxe out West.
We also noted we were in Chelsea in Manhattan, where, at some hotels, if they could charge you wearing down the mirror by looking into it, they would.
But first things first. We don’t know how these guys knew we were coming or if every guest gets a bottle of wine, a tray of fruit and chocolate and a nice note from management, but it sure was welcome.
The room wasn’t large, but neither were our needs; we were only in for one night. We noshed, sipped, brushed teeth, washed face and passed out.
We did get up once to use the facilities and were tempted to do some kind of disco-dance past the wall in the above photo, but kept it light.
Woke the next morning, bought a fat box from Staples, returned to the Hilton and borrowed scissors, tape and a magic marker from the front desk, one at a time.
They never acted as though what we were asking was inconvenient, nor did they seem overly concerned with whether or not we’d skip out with their office supplies. You have to like joints who are loose about stuff like that, yes?
20 minutes later, our package was neatly taped, labeled and ready to go, as were we. We threw the beat-up suitcase in the trash, returned the supplies, threw a little lettuce around in thanks, and off with us.
There are many, many hotels in Chelsea; pick the Hilton Fashion District if you want warm, friendly service against New York’s mean streets.
And tell ‘me Da Luxe sent ya.