Let me explain.
We chose to make a night out of dinner at Print. (yes, the period is part of the name), located on the ground floor of ink48 Hotel in Hell's Kitchen. Print. (again, the period) has a great menu grounded in locally grown, seasonal ingredients. After dinner, our plan was to head up to the roof to the Press Lounge for drinks. All three venues have a great 'story'. The building used to be a huge print house, and the printing press motif runs through more than their names.
Anyway, dinner was great, and, by dining in the restaurant, you get dibs on going up to the roof-top bar. We didn't realise what a big deal this was until we went to the bank of elevators and saw the very long queue of people waiting to go up. There was a security guard at the elevator (nice guy) and another guy sort of managing the line. Even though we got to go to the front of the line, we still had to wait a few minutes, so we got to see some interesting interactions.
We knew something was up when a young woman came up and asked, "What's up there? What are people lining up for exactly?" The guy managing the line just sort of ignored her at first, but she asked again, adding that, "I have never been here before and kind of want to know what I'm lining up
for."
At this, manager guy swaggeringly replied, "The greatest rooftop bar you have ever seen. It's the experience of a lifetime, honey." Apparently that wasn't appealing enough because she just shrugged and left.
A few minutes later, we boarded the elevator and were joined by someone we had seen in the lobby, only this time he was alone, without his friends. We asked him what happened and he said that manager guy "didn't like my friend's shorts." This was even more interesting.
The bar has a dress code (fair enough) and had said no to his friend because her shorts were ripped up the front. Ripped clothing is a tricky thing because sometimes it's fashionable while other times it's a no-no. When it's meant to be 'sexy' it usually falls on the fashionable side. Why you would wear shorts that are ripped up the front, I'm not sure, but they certainly drew attention. Especially since you could just about see where her leg joined her pelvis. Not my style, but again, you never know.
I can understand why the manager guy said no, but it raised the question, was the bar soooo good that you would ditch your friends to go up? All this ran through my head while the elevator ascended. Another couple shared the elevator with us on the way up. I didn't pay much attention to them (thinking instead about the guy bailing on his friends) until the doors opened.
Standing before us all was a large group of people. Describing them is challenging. Some were young, some were our age. Some were really loud. Some were not. Many of them were checking their phones. Most were well-dressed. A few were checking their phones. A few were...
Okay, I am dancing around the issue. This was a place people were going as much to be looked at as they were to look at the view. They were primped and polished and seemed very conscious of self (as in thinking about exactly what angle they might best be photographed from as opposed to worrying that they had a spot on their shirts). And, to be blunt, a lot of them looked like visitors.
This impression flashed in the brief seconds after the door opened. Clearly I was not alone in my impression because the couple, about whom I had only just become aware, took one step forward to exit the elevator (as is expected in such situations) and then suddenly realised this was not the place they wanted to be. They quickly backed up and the woman stepped on my foot.
Our group stepped boldly out of the elevator and headed out to the patio. It was undoubtedly beautiful. Amazing views, great breezes, and a really nice space. Perhaps we were not as quick to assess the situation as the couple from the elevator, but we knew this was not our crowd. We made a couple of laps of the place and took a couple of photos (how could you not) before discussing what to do next.
We looked at the lights and the traffic and the crowd and someone in our group said, "I know what happened! All those people from over there (pointing towards New Jersey) looked over here and saw all those pretty lights on the roof and said, 'Hey, let's go over there. It looks like a nice place for a drink.'"
We left.
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| I think I took this one while we were making a hasty retreat from The Press Lounge. |
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