The frustration of any trip—especially one taken during peak tourism times—is waiting on line. If only all major world attractions had a FastPass, where I could return at a designated hour and cut right to the front of the line.…
After a carriage ride through Central Park, crossing 59th Street for a cocktail at the Plaza Hotel seemed a logical next step. There in the land of Eloise, though, the reality was not quite as perfect as my memories of the place. The Oak Bar is closed, the result of some apparent arrears in rent payments. (It should reopen in a couple of months, a concierge maintained. For now, padlocks remain on its doors. There’s a lawsuit.) The Palm Court just seemed crowded. Tea is okay in the Champagne Bar, but, really, I just wasn’t up for cocktails in the lobby.
Up to the Rose Club we went. The ambience was perfect for a wintry Saturday afternoon. Dark and paneled, the place offered refuge with nice lighting. My mistake was heading for the ladies’ lounge. Trash bins were overflowing and the place was a mess. The attendant just commented, “We’ve been busy.” Doing nothing, apparently.
I was soothed by our Irish coffees, which were perfect and overflowed with freshly whipped cream. Refrain from using the facilities, and you’ll be just fine.
© Lori Tripoli