Tuesday afternoon there was a sign in the Chelsea Hotel elevator:
TO PREVENT ANY CONFUSION PLEASE BE ADVISED THAT BD HOTELS IS NO LONGER THE MANAGING AGENT OF THE CHELSEA HOTEL. ALL INQUIRIES SHOULD BE DIRECTED TO DAVID ELDER, OFFICE OF THE MANAGER.
I went downstairs to see what it was all about and saw three of my fellow residents discussing the flyer in the lobby. “Everybody got them in their mailboxes,” Rupert said (name changed—I hope nobody here is 
named Rupert). “You should have one in your box, too.” They all wondered whether or not what it said was true. “What is this, amateur hour?” Rupert asked.
“It can’t possibly be true,” I said. “Elder’s not qualified to pick out his own socks.”
I went up to the front desk and had one of the bellmen get my letter out of my box. “What’s the meaning of this,” I asked the smiling young man who appeared to be in charge. (He turned out to be Glendon, the new Director of Operations.)
“That’s a hoax,” Glendon said, and snatched the letter out of my hand and threw it in the trash.
“Give that back,” I said.
“No, it stays in the trash,” Glendon says.
“You can’t just steal my mail and throw it in the trash,” I said. (It had come through the U.S. mail, stamped and postmarked.)
“It’s your mail but it goes in the trash,” the bellman broke in. (The staff must take a lot of heat due to these confusing signs.)
I kept arguing and finally Glendon realized I wasn’t going away and so got the letter out and handed it back to me. (I think he was also worried that I was causing a scene in front of some transient guests.) “I know you’re the one who writes that really ha ha funny blog,” he said.
“No, it’s ha ha really sick,” I corrected him.
“Yeah, you’re right, it is sick, he said.
“So who are you, anyway,” I asked.
Glendon introduced himself and shook my hand. “I’m trying to meet all the people in the hotel.”
“Good luck.”
“I hope we’re not going to have any trouble,” he said.
“Just so long as you don’t throw anybody out on the street,” I replied.
“Oh we’d never do that,” Glendon said.
I went back and told the other residents that the letter was a hoax. “I asked the new guy, Glendon,” I said. “Have you ever met him?”
“No,” Rupert said, “I don’t interact with any of these people. Is Donald Trump running the hotel now? Is that guy one of his apprentices?”
‘If he wins he’s really gonna get a booby prize,” I said.
Though my exchange with Glendon was all fun and games since he did eventually give back my mail, it has come to our attention—though we haven’t yet verified it--that someone from BD Hotels may have been throwing away more of these letters, apparently taking them from residents boxes before they had a chance to read them. This would represent a serious breach of trust, and an abuse of power, not to mention being (in our understanding) a federal offense. We hope that this rumor is not true. -- Ed Hamilton
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