In pictures W hotels are so nice looking. So modern, so hip, so uber sexy. In person they’re loud, pretentious and really loud. Walking in the first night I felt sexy, hip, uber cool. Then I realized the bathroom walls were transparent.
As in the mens room looked into the womens room and vice versa.
I started to get nervous. The bathrooms upstairs, while opaque, had rocks in the sink, a metal bead door and colored spotlights above each toilet. The cocktail waitresses wore black minidresses with black hooker boots. It was dark, super dark. And loud, did I mention loud? You can only make so much of a first impression WHEN YELLING AT SOMEONE THAT YOU ARE FROM INDIANA AND YOU WRITE ABOUT POOP ON A FAIRLY REGULARLY BASIS. May I also mention that the guest rooms had windows that looked into the bedrooms? *ahem*
Thinking I had escaped the UNKCHA UNKCHA UNKCHA beat of the bar by entering the elevator I was maddened to find that the elevator felt inspired to play even more rave music even louder for my entire ride. It never got quiet, anywhere, at anytime.
For any of you who feel like you missed out on the crazy rave glow stick days in high school, go stay at a W. It’ll cure you quick.
For any of you who’d rather gouge your ears out with swizzle sticks rather than have your every move followed by a very beat happy DJ WHO DOESN’T KNOW WHERE THE VOLUME IS, avoid the W.
At all costs.
It makes you feel really, really old when you’re only 25.