"W" is for "Whatever"
Okay, I'm sorry, but I just don't get why the W hotels are supposed to be cool. W Lakeshore -- I lived next door in the Onterie Center back when you were just a sorry excuse for a Days Inn, and truth be told, the glitter and the faux fur decor don't hide your humble roots. You're like Anna Nicole.
W on Adams -- I used to think you were a step above your poser cousin to the east, what with your pretty gilded Living Room ceiling and all. Not after last night. Met some of the girls there for drinks, only to deal with the rudest, skankiest waitress ever. First, she was wearing an outfit that would put Courtney Peldon to shame -- slit up to there and hanging down to here. But the real kicker was -- we were paying the bill, and one of my friends asked how she should compute the tax on her drinks. I helpfully replied that the tax on drinks is close to 10%. Overhearing me, and misunderstanding me (she thought I was talking about her tip, I guess), Skanky Waitress snarked "Try 20%," complete with bitchy eye-rolling.
Um, listen Missy, why don't you try this: "I wasn't talking to you" and add a little "Since you're such a greedy, snotty bitch, as well as a skank, 10% can now be what you get for a tip too."
After paying, I headed over to the front desk to get my valet ticket validated, fully intending to put in a word about my unhappiness with Skanky Waitress. Instead, I was made to wait in a ten minute line, and then told by Irfan the Front Desk Man that they wouldn't validate my ticket and that instead, I would be paying $24 for parking. When I expressed my shock that they could charge so much for two hours, Irfan explained "M'aam, we're not like other places in the city. This is the W."
Damn right they're not like other places -- last week Genevieve and I enjoyed a wonderful happy hour at the Four Seasons, complete with excellent service, roaring fire, and spiked hot cider served in a cute little teapot. All those jackasses with the leatherette-seated BMW's can have the "W" and its overpriced valet and underdressed skank waitresses.
W on Adams -- I used to think you were a step above your poser cousin to the east, what with your pretty gilded Living Room ceiling and all. Not after last night. Met some of the girls there for drinks, only to deal with the rudest, skankiest waitress ever. First, she was wearing an outfit that would put Courtney Peldon to shame -- slit up to there and hanging down to here. But the real kicker was -- we were paying the bill, and one of my friends asked how she should compute the tax on her drinks. I helpfully replied that the tax on drinks is close to 10%. Overhearing me, and misunderstanding me (she thought I was talking about her tip, I guess), Skanky Waitress snarked "Try 20%," complete with bitchy eye-rolling.
Um, listen Missy, why don't you try this: "I wasn't talking to you" and add a little "Since you're such a greedy, snotty bitch, as well as a skank, 10% can now be what you get for a tip too."
After paying, I headed over to the front desk to get my valet ticket validated, fully intending to put in a word about my unhappiness with Skanky Waitress. Instead, I was made to wait in a ten minute line, and then told by Irfan the Front Desk Man that they wouldn't validate my ticket and that instead, I would be paying $24 for parking. When I expressed my shock that they could charge so much for two hours, Irfan explained "M'aam, we're not like other places in the city. This is the W."
Damn right they're not like other places -- last week Genevieve and I enjoyed a wonderful happy hour at the Four Seasons, complete with excellent service, roaring fire, and spiked hot cider served in a cute little teapot. All those jackasses with the leatherette-seated BMW's can have the "W" and its overpriced valet and underdressed skank waitresses.
posted by Jaid at 9:37 AM
1 Comments:
I do like the Ritz too, Mia, no need to compete. I also enjoy the Peninsula on occasion, and especially the Sofitel -- where we exchanged Christmas presents last year -- very good people watching.
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