Two Tales of Carefully Constructed Confines

It has come to my attention as of late, not for the first time, that people love to build little worlds for themselves, often based on how they view what their station in life should look like. This view could be informed from many sources, obviously ones parents and respected elders would hold a prime respect. Another source is most certainly the media, and how, by palely reflecting reality, it leads to a world, which imitates its own quite imperfect imitation of that world. When we construct these worlds one of the major problems is that we need to keep others out, in order to maintain the illusion that our world is the true world. So any contact with variant ideas of how the world works is limited or if possible altogether severed.

We arrived at the Ritz Carrolton and walked into the opulent main lobby dazzled by the over use of classically themed art, and marble accessories. Walking to the elevator we punched the button and waited. I grabbed a few pieces of foil wrapped candy from a dish. Within a few seconds the door opened and we went in. The room we were looking for was 439. We looked at the floors available for our elevator and were shocked to see that they only reached to floor three. Shrugging in confusion I pressed three and away we went. When we stepped out of the elevator we were surprised to see that we were in another, even more meticulously decorated lobby. We bobbed and weaved around pillars of white faux marble and ended up I a courtyard domed by the stars whoÕs floor was the second story roof. It was cobblestone, and surrounded by glass windows around the whole space. We used it as a cut through to get the information desk. With the information we gave, the information we received was, not surprisingly, less than informative.

ÒWeÕre looking for a room, I think itÕs 439, but IÕm not sure. Anyway, hereÕs the name of the girl staying there, but it might be registered under someone elseÕs name. The name of that person we donÕt know, but it would be an Indian name.Ó

The desk clerk concentrated with all the might of a grade schooler taking one of those standardized tests with the impossible logic questions where the answer could very well be, Ònot enough information.Ó But getting hired on at the Ritz Carrolton is no small feat, and one is no doubt trained to respond respectfully to such inane questions.

The computer glowed onto his face as the keys clacked out their commands. In the end the only information he could give us was that we were at the wrong Ritz Carrolton. My heart sank at the though of having to drive across town to another hotel only to have to repeat the same riddle to another clerk. But it turned out that there was no need to return to our automobile, the Òother locationÓ was on the other side of the building. In fact there were three hotels located in that one building, all branches of the Ritz Carrolton. Our mark was in one of those other Ritz Carroltons.

Now it was time for the desk clerk to give the riddle. He gave us such a series of twists and turns to make our way to the other Ritz Carrolton that it would have made the Minotaur jealous. We wandered into the structure of the building, trying with all our might to resist the temptation of touching all those nice little statues and paintings set out there, seemingly for that express purpose.

We were, in the end, at a loss when it came to finding room 439 by that route. We couldnÕt even get into the right part of the building. Now the hard part was sneaking back past the original information desk without the clerk noticing us and bringing attention to the fact that we were going the wrong way. Luckily he was preoccupied with a Spanish matriarch in a large wide-brim yellow hat, with black trim and white carnations on the top. With that distraction how could our escape but be easy?

Back down the elevator we went and out the front door onto Canal Street. Apparently the other branches of the Ritz Carrolton were accessible from the outside of the building and we deemed it easier to go the long way then to try and find our way though the twists and turns of the upper floors. We walked around to the back of the building and into a door that looked like some sort of entrance and took in our surroundings. There was and extremely soft carpeted floor and the decorations here were more elegant, than before. Not overdone in a gaudy classic Greek myth style, but done in such a way as to appear more tasteful in itÕs understatement. There was no information desk in the front, and the place we were in did not feel like a lobby at all. We walked over to the elevator and hit the button. It immediately sprung open. We walked in. The walls were opal and rich, with mirrors along the side. The doors shut behind us, and Rebecca pushed the button for the 4th floor. We waited, but the elevator did not move. I soon glanced down and noticed that the light on the 4 button was not lit.

ÒDid you press the button?Ó I asked as I leaned over and pressed it. When I did the light lit, but immediately went out. I looked to the bottom of the button panel and noticed a card intake slot. We were not getting up this elevator without the proper means, be it cash or card key. From there it was outside again to continue our track around the Ritz Carrolton. We finally entered the back ally and saw the sign for the branch of the hotel that we wanted. We entered the doors and took in our surroundings. It was here that we first really realized that the three separate hotels in one building are made for three separate classes of people. Here the decoration was not the understatement of extreme wealth, where one needs a key to even ride the elevator, or overstated Greek classical. It was extremely overstated late 19th early 20th century antique. It was more like a museum than a hotel.

When we got to the elevator, we pushed the button and there was considerable wait for it to open. There were no candies outside the door. When we entered we almost despaired, there was only a second floor in that elevator. I went ahead and pushed the button any way and when we got to the second lobby we went to the information desk and gave our riddle again. He directed us to another elevator by which to access the rooms. The first elevator had simply been a filter to keep the riff raff out apparently. One must pass through many traps and layers to gains access to the living quarters of the Ritz Carrolton.

When we came out onto the hallway the floor was covered in plastic and the walls were freshly hung sheet rock, not even sealed yet. Our friend obviously was staying in the less affluent of the three Ritz Carroltons.