Lisa Jervis found it quite amusing that I am stuck at the W once again. Years ago we found ourselves wandering in a daze in the Seattle version of the hotel, when an internet start-up threw a peculiar party for young feminists in an effort to woo us into a dodgy scheme they had (partially) formulated.
That weekend was jammed full of parties and food and treats that we potential clients did not appreciate; my estimate is that it cost over one hundred thousand dollars, though I am probably being conservative with the figure. And, of course, none of us signed with the firm.
That was certainly the oddest experience I had during the dot.com years, and most of us were completely mystified by the ordeal. Though the encounter was hilarious and definitely worthwhile; I met Inga for the first time, along with scores of other fantastically smart editors and publishers. At one point Ariel flicked the ash off her cigarette and murmured Watch out. The W is like a portal into another world.
I’m not sure about the others, but this has certainly been the case in my life. The W chain seems to enjoy some kind of special relationship with high tech firms. It is the facility we are routinely billeted to, even if we request an alternate address.
It would be churlish to complain about free accommodation anywhere, let alone in luxury hotel rooms. Staying in these places has certainly taught me a great deal about how to communicate with people who are not remotely my sort.
Hotel visits have also forced me to exude the confidence of the entitled classes. For example: I am no longer stopped by security on suspicion of being a prostitute, no matter what I wear.
But that doesn’t mean that I enjoy these idylls. My mother cleaned hotel rooms when I was a kid, and my father is still a janitor. There is something deeply wrong about letting other people make my bed and tidy my room. I can’t even cope with such ministrations when I am bedridden in a hospital.
Though I do admit that hanging out in the lobby and the bar is useful for my sociological research projects on the mating rituals of the human species. Last night I was deeply amused to sit for an hour watching people in white trousers act silly and spend money.
We were scheduled to spend the rest of the summer at the W but I used up vast quantities of my own work time to identify an alternative that would not be so painful. It took a great deal of strategic effort but I finally found an apartment to rent.
I am very excited to have a fridge that is not crammed full of tiny liquor bottles.