Are You Or Are You Not The Hotel Chelsea?

The world over, the Chelsea Hotel has become the gold standard for luxury hotel accommodations.  Or else, the standard for something a bit less reputable.  In New York Magazine, we read of a Paris hotel: “If you like mingling with the eccentric regulars at the Chelsea Hotel, You’ll love the Hotel Costes.”  And in the Birmingham Post: “Given all this [that is, celebrities visit and one of them threw a TV off the balcony], you’d think the St. David’s would be the Welsh answer to New York’s Chelsea Hotel, but far from it.  It’s serene, sleek, and wonderfully quiet.”
       Everybody seems to have an inferiority complex: are we as good as the quirky old Chelsea?  Or: certainly we’re not as bad as that godforsaken Chelsea!  They act as if travelers are searching the world over for another Chelsea—or maybe, something like the Chelsea, but not quite so real.  Maybe a place where the writers and artists are portrayed by actors—though not the kind of actors that live here!
     Actually, this reflects our own ambivalence about the place: we love it and we hate it too.  It’s a real hoot to run into schizophrenics roaming the halls, and to have drunken fools barging into your room in the middle of the night--except that sometimes it’s not.  It’s like the city itself: what’s good about it--the crowds, the excitement, the nervous energy, the feeling of being a part of something larger than yourself--is also what’s bad about it, as you can easily be overwhelmed by these things.  The Chelsea Hotel is a microcosm of New York.
     Our advice?  Give it up, wannabees!  The Chelsea Hotel, like New York itself, cannot be imitated.  You just can’t make up the shit that goes on around here.