Walking through the lobby on Sunday after-noon, I noticed that Jerry had a group of college students lined up for one of his Chelsea Hotel tours. In all the years I’ve lived here I never have gone on one, so I figured this was my big chance. Knowing that he wouldn’t reveal his secrets to an outlaw blogger such as myself, I quickly ran upstairs, donned a collegiate disguise, and hid myself in amongst the kids.
Jerry didn’t tell too much that I hadn’t heard already, but it was interest to note how he tailored the message to appeal to a younger audience. He talked about how the Grateful Dead used to live here, back in the 60s, and said they gave the absolute best parties in the history of the hotel. He said you could get happy just by walking by their door.
He told a familiar story about how Jimi Hendrix was hanging around the front desk when an old lady was checking into the hotel and, mistaking him for a bellhop, ordered him to carry her bags upstairs. Well, in Jerry’s version, Jimi was such a nice guy that he actually grabbed the ladies bags and went up with her in the elevator. Unfortunately there were no tales of more recent rockers such as Rufus Wainwright or Ryan Adams.
Jerry told one thing I didn’t know – the room off to the right of the lobby, which is now being refurbished as Stanley’s office, was originally a “Ladies Waiting Room.” This, naturally, inspired Jerry to tell a joke about hookers – of which he commented that we no longer have any here. At that exact moment a resident was walking past. “Yes we do have hookers!” he said.
“You got that right!” I exclaimed on impulse. But then, my cover blown, I had to flee up the stairs as Jerry and the college students presumably adjourned to the famous Hotel Chelsea Bar to do a few beer bongs and jello shots.
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