Final night in Manhattan, then back to the sandbar for the holiday weekend.
Just did a midnight conference call, then picked up the copy of the Guest Informant, the curiously useless but sumptuous magazine/book found in nearly every NYC hotel room. I like how the “articles” are about the advertisers — but what really struck me is this is the safest print media in the world. As long as there are hotel rooms, and as long as there are bathrooms, there will be a need for the Guest Informant.
And there’s no need for an online strategy — no one is going to log onto their $9.95 a day hotel room wifi connection and say, “I think I need to buy a pair of lizard skin cowboy boots in Soho, wonder if guestinformant.com can help….”
And the name is sort of sinister, like someone is watching. The secret appeal of a hotel room is the anonymous misbehavior that occurs in them (which is why you don’t want to wave a blacklight over the bed before sleeping in it). Why else would they stock it with exactly enough alcohol to get you shattered, provide on-demand smut, and a creepy magazine book that purports to spy on you?
And those of you familiar with the reason I do not stay at the Soho Grand (aka the “OhSoGrand”) anymore (it involved the removal of the room’s door by hotel security while I was inside), are not permitted to share details in the comments.
0 thoughts on “The Guest Informant”
Why do I suspect that you were caught treating yourself like a human amusement park?
My all-time favorite story…Truly a classic!
I admit, I’m intrigued.
I was there my self on 8/29 for a brief bout of college shopping. I think they’ve nailed the faux-dinge style. Retro soho?