Observations About Hotel Bathrooms
citizenM Hotel, NYC
POST 28: September 21, 2020
There are many, many important and weighty things going on in the world and in my own family right now, and I had planned to write about one or more of them.
Instead, I’m going to share some observations about hotel bathrooms.
Lucia and I are in New York again because my girl wanted to have her senior pictures taken in SoHo. Given that she’s an excellent student, that I understand her desire for her senior pictures to reflect who she is and where she’s going, and that high school seniors are getting a bit of a raw deal this year, her father and I said sure, go for it. From the absolutely radiant expression on her face when she met me for dinner after the shoot, the money invested and the memories made were well worth it.
Lucia and I are staying at the citizenM Hotel on the corner of Bowery and Delancey Streets (aka, the corner of “quirky fun” and “homelessness”). The bathrooms are unique here at the citizenM, whatever the heck that stands for and, no, I’m not going to ask because I’m having too much fun trying to figure it out (Citizen Meursault from Camus’ The Stranger? Citizen Millenial, who this hotel is definitely geared toward? Citizen “Maybe We’ll Keep Our Guests Wondering What This Means?”).
While the bathrooms are small, they are highly functional and fun. From an iPad next to the bed, you can program the shower lights to be any color you'd like, from Crayola Green to Limoncello Yellow. Inside the shower itself, the guest is offered a choice of “citizenAM” (feminine and smelling slightly of fresh earth after a rainstorm) or “citizenPM” (masculine, slightly musky, with a vibe of "I just got home from/am heading out to a night club") shampoo and body wash.
Which leads me to several observations and pieces of advice about hotel bathrooms, gained from years of business and pleasure travel:
Always bring your own conditioner. If a hotel has conditioner, it won’t do a thing to unclot a thick tangle of hair. I always pack a 5.1 oz size of Nexxus Humectress in my toiletries bag. It smells like summer feels, and it breaks through the knots as effectively as Drano Max Gel unclogs drains. (No, Nexxus and Drano didn’t pay me to say this, but I’d gladly accept promotional fees, hint, hint, Unilever plc and SC Johnson, if you are reading this).
As soon as you get in your room, make sure the hot water and shower work. You do not want to wait until you step under the shower head, anticipating a relaxing hot shower or a bracing morning wakeup wash, only to discover that the water gets only lukewarm at best and the water pressure is non-existent. In some hotels, hot water takes forever or never arrives at the upper floors so requesting a lower floor is an option. Do not ever accept a room with a backed up drain or dribbly shower head.
Is this a romantic getaway? Make sure the bathroom has a rock-solid door that locks, does not share a wall with the bed, and has a toilet seat lid that closes. Open toilet bowls are not romantic.
Lack of bathrooms is never an option. I suppose if you’re one of those hardy, sleeping-under-the-stars-is-such-a-la-la-pleasure types, a latrine or a pile of leaves in the woods works just fine for your needs. For me, unnh—uhh, no way, not doing it. My big nod to Sleeping in the Wilderness on our upcoming road trip is booking a cabin for two nights at a state park. I scrolled straight past accommodations with “no bathroom” until I got to one with “heat,” “toilet” and “shower only.”
I can rough it to the extent of having no bath tub or (sigh) hot tub and settle for “shower only.”
But “no toilet?” No thanks.