Hotel Headaches.(New York hotels)

Byline: Yasmine Mohseni

I thought I'd impress my date by suggesting we meet for a drink at the Hudson, one of Ian Schrager's hippest hotels. Or at least it was this spring, a New York eon ago. After sitting for 20 minutes amid the Philippe Starck splendor, beautiful people milling around, a cocktail waitress wandered over. After 40 minutes we got our drinks. The check: $25 for a martini and a beer! Such is the price of Manhattan cool. Needless to say, the date did not go well.

Forgive and forget, I say. But several dates later, I've realized that New York hotels have officially set service aside for trendiness. Hip hotels with so-called cutting-edge design and run by young, pretentious and utterly indifferent staff have taken over the city. The customer, it seems, is never right anymore. At the new Maritime Hotel, guests paying $400 a night complain about the incessant noise from the bar, yet the deafening noise has continued. Guests at the Hudson and Majestic can't even get into the bar if the hotels are hosting private parties, which is almost every weekend. And don't even think about putting your coat on the back of your chair at such places: I made that mistake at the Hudson and was told to either put the offensive item on my lap or check it. Apparently, such casualness is inconsistent with the spirit of Sir Philippe's oh-so-mod design.

At least the Hudson lets me in. One afternoon this summer, I sought a drink on the rooftop terrace at 60 Thompson, a swank SoHo hotel. Members only, I was loftily informed. If I faxed my "information" to their PR people, perhaps I might be granted a membership. Pity the poor people who actually stay at such places. My parents recently visited and (naif that I am) I suggested they try 60 Thompson. When they asked for a copy of ...