Things are getting a little bit ridiculous here at the Chelsea. This powerful, egomaniacal businesswoman, Marlene Krauss, who should have better things to do with her time, has, for the past 20 years, been engaged in a mindless and destructive Vendetta against the majority shareholder and former manager of the Chelsea Hotel, Stanley Bard. Recently, with the aid of BD Hotels, Marlene was able to oust Stanley from the position he had held for almost 50 years. Time to uncork the Champagne, right, Marlene?
Surely you jest. For we have reason to believe that Marlene is still going after Stanley, apparently determined to dig up the dirt on him—whatever that might turn out to be—in order to force him to sell his beloved Chelsea. Marlene apparently so hates this small, elderly man--with an unreasoning ferocity bordering on psychosis--that even the wholesale demolition of the Chelsea is unlikely to sate her unholy bloodlust. Will she rest when Stanley is thrown into prison to spend his last few years scrapping with young toughs and busting up rocks in a quarry? We doubt it. Even when Stanley is dead and buried, we expect Marlene to dig up his bones and grind them to dust with a mortar and pestle—to season her foul witch’s brew.
We have come to believe that the feud with Stanley is the root of Marlene’s disagreement with BD. She wouldn’t let them do their job because she was more concerned with using this place to get back at Stanley. Since BD—though hardly known for their good works--wouldn’t cooperate to this end, they’re out of here. (We’ll have more on this in a later post.)
So where does that leave the tenants of the Chelsea? Well, obviously, right smack dab in the middle of the battlefield. Now we have no manager! Can you believe that?! Nobody’s running the place at all. Nobody is making up the schedule for the workers, and nobody is here to pay them. And what if there’s a fire, or some other kind of emergency? Who’s going to make sure that the residents get out safely? All kinds of transients and other strangers are in and out of this building every day. Some of them may be crazy, or on drugs. Who’s going to deal with such potentially explosive situations?
Anyway, regardless of Stanley’s supposed sins, why should we residents have to pay for them? Is it just because we respect him and want him back? Or is it that Stanley was the one who brought us into the Chelsea, and Marlene won’t rest until she wipes every last vestige of his influence from the building?
Stop it, Marlene! Back off. Enough’s enough. If you can’t bring yourself to return the Chelsea to the Bards, then at least hire a manager who will run the place the way it should be run: as the haven for the arts it has been for 125 years. -- Ed Hamilton
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