I walk through a cavernous hotel lobby every morning and every night en route to the subway or to retrieve my car. At first, I saw no one in this world within a world; I wallowed, instead, in my own work madness and newness.
But in the past month, I have taken a moment to glance around this odd little universe. At first, the constantly changing faces seemed difficult to navigate, impossible to read. And while none remain the same from day to day, I now see a pattern to the pulse of the place.
Mondays mean quiet time as the staff gears up for the week ahead. The parking lot is almost empty. The bellman smiles at me. The floors shine.
Tuesdays are very busy. Name tags sway on lanyards, some adorned with extra ribbons or pins that mean something only to a handful of other ribbon wearers on Mezzanine One. I’ve never been to Mezzanine One. I’ve only watched said name-tag wearers descend there on multiple escalators.
Wednesdays are days to walk with your head up, shoulders back, bag securely on your shoulder. “I’m a local,” you want your body language to shout as you push through the lobby throngs. Except the throngs don’t care. They outnumber you…until they hit the sidewalk outside and ask you directions. Then, you rule.
Thursdays mean flight crews from foreign airlines I’ve never heard of and will likely will never fly. The uniform-clad men and women drape across every available chair and sofa in the place. They are tired. They have worked some ridiculously long overnight shift, slinging soda and ice to row upon row of uncomfortable overseas travelers in coach who wonder where they’ll land once they land.
Fridays mean the end of the meeting, one last morning in a hotel room that’s all yours and yours alone before you head back to the home you share with your spouse and kids, one more enormous breakfast in the the lobby restaurant–and this time you eat the pastries. Everyone is smiling on Friday and no one grumbles about the long line in the adjacent Starbucks.
Saturday is dress-up day, when a homecoming dance or black-tie fundraiser or wedding or other formal event takes place on Ballroom One. Hairspray and cologne waft around the couples walking arm-in-arm, smiling self consciously in their finery, as they walk toward the elevators and escalators that will transport them away from the ordinary and into the magic. They are very careful not to snag a heel, unpin a curl, or wrinkle a top coat, but they don’t think twice about wondering where they can smoke a quick cigarette.
Sunday is a mystery. I am nowhere near the hotel this one day of week. Sunday is the day I reconnect with my own life and loves and needs.
Some days, though, I wonder what it would be like to book a room in this hotel, lie down on a comfy bed, draw the curtains, hang the ‘Do Not Distrurb’ sign on the door–and sleep for a week without ever seeing that lobby.
Comments
7 responses to “Road Trip for One”
I think you should try it. At least for a night. Great observations! I love people watching and hotels are a fabulous place to do it.
I’m usually one of the people herding the name-tag wearers around as I get to help plan our companies sales meetings. There are anywhere from 700 to 1,000 of us walking around a hotel or conference center twice a year.
It’s nice to see what it looks like from another perspective.
Reminds me of when I spend a winter’s weekend just in my dorm, never stepping outside because we have a foodcourt attached to my dorm. Horrible, I know.. but it can be so relaxing to just stay in your little world.
RE: Tuesdays are very busy. Name tags sway on laniards (NOTE: lanyards — giggle — I had to braid them in Girl Scouts, thank you very much), some adorned with extra ribbons or pins that mean something only to a handful of other ribbon wearers (NOTE: having been there, done that at conferences, these are intended to let the “experienced” folks (or those running the conference/event) know that this is your first time at the conference/event and/or where you are from/what group you’re affiliated with) on Mezzanine One. Ive never been to Mezzanine One. Ive only watched said name-tag wearers descend there on multiple escalators.
Hang out in the bar after (hmmmm) 7 or 8 p.m. with some of the ribbon-wearers — those were my best experiences as an attendee!
Mary–Copy edit so noted. As for hanging out in the hotel bar at 7 or 8 p.m.–um, I’m at work in my own place!
Re: As for hanging out in the hotel bar at 7 or 8 p.m.um, Im at work in my own place!
It could be fun to take one evening off; I learned a lot from those after-hours bar visits (seriously!) and met some truly nice people — one passed away a few years ago and it broke my heart; he was kind of a Maurice Chevalier “bon vivant” type 🙂 I could always count on him for a hug.
I just stumbled upon this site, it’s brilliant…
I too work in a hotel restaurant, it really is a whole different world in the universe of serving. You couldn’t be more accurate with your daily observations.