The following was inspired by a recent vacation. Details below the comic.
It’s funny how the time spent away from one’s former home can cloud the memories of that place.
It’s been a decade since my last visit to New York City and I completely forgot the volume of noises that echo around its concrete canyons.
My wife, Deb, apparently also forgot.
When we arrived two weeks ago at our hotel in New York, which was located down on Water St. at the southern tip of Manhattan, Deb walked up to the front desk and inquired if we could get a room with a “nice view of New York Bay.” The clerk assured her that there was a view.
Deb smiled got the card keys and then up the elevator we went to the 11th floor where we found our special room with a view.
After opening the door, Deb and I stepped into the room, or should I say, enlarged closet.
I think my old PT Cruiser had more living space than this room. If you needed to bend over to untie your shoes, you’d have to open the window. If the bathroom were any smaller, the toilet and the shower would have to be combined into a less that desirable bidet.
I’m sure the French have a slang word for this kind of small, that when spoken requires a fair amount of lip spittle.
As for the view from our window, Deb threw open the curtains with great excitement—but was abruptly dismayed by the 30 story office building staring back at her.
I guess when the desk clerk said there was a view of the bay he must have forgotten to add “…back in 1923.”
But aside from this nonsense, we were OK with the room. We weren’t here to inspect hotel walls, we were here to see “the city that doesn’t sleep.”
However thanks our lack of noticing the building being constructed right next to our hotel, we became “the tourists who never slept.”
Like I said to begin with, you forget just how loud New York City can be. Especially when you’re being awakened at 6:00 A.M. to the sound of riveters, dump trucks and pile drivers.
To get a small taste of how noisy that room was, take a listen to the following.1
We lasted for three nights in that room until Deb couldn’t take the noise anymore and insisted we move to viewless room on the “quiet” side of the Hotel.
Of course the word “Quiet” has a sliding scale definition in NYC.
May your week be a somewhat quiet.
Cheers,
Ed
This whole thing was my favorite one you've written. I am printing the comic out and putting it in my cubicle at work. Such fun. Thank you.
I love the clip. It conveys the spirit of New York.