Waldorf Astoria Hotel
The name alone preceeds the reputation, which we found (surprise!) to be quite inflated. Growing up I seem to recall reading tons of books, lost-generation stuff, wherein drunk flappers and bourbon-breathed men about town would inevitably rest their heads at the Waldorf come night’s end. Opened in 1893 and maintaining the classic Art Deco style of later years, the Waldorf=Astoria (apparently it grew to a double hypen somewhere along the line) is more of a place to dream about than spend reality in.
One of the great things about the Waldorf’s notoriety is that there are so many tourists coming and going that you are completely left alone, though I wouldn’t say to your own devices. I really wanted to play the piano (I always want to play the piano in any lobby) but, as irrational paranoia began to creep in (the only feeling I’ve ever regretted ignoring), felt some sort of big brother looming from the rafters.
Not so sure about the details of this game but I know the count after leaving the Essex House last week was something like 1-4 (shut up). We’re getting better at this all around so hold tight.
Overall rating for playing chess in the Waldorf Astoria lobby:
