Eric D. Snider

YM I So Tired?

Snide Remarks #583

"YM I So Tired?"

by Eric D. Snider

Published in EricDSnider.com on June 2, 2008

I love New York. This probably comes from not living there. To actually reside there would be hectic, exhausting, and expensive. But visiting! Visiting is a treat. Visiting is also hectic, exhausting, and expensive, but it's over faster.

I took a trip to The NYC last month and had the pleasure of seeing friends who had moved to New York since the last time I was there. The nice thing about having friends in New York is that they'll let you crash at their apartments when you visit. The downside is that everyone's apartment in New York is the size of a public restroom stall, making the accommodations wise from the standpoint of economics but not ergonomics. You have to weigh your options: Sure, I can stay here for free. But is it worth it if I have to sleep on a pile of laundry under the sink?

Besides, you hate to take advantage of someone's kindness, especially considering they must be driven crazy by their miniature living quarters already, without a freeloader sleeping in the closet (folded in half, stuffed behind a box).

Not wanting to be a burden on my friends, and wanting someplace comfortable to call my own where I could come and go as I pleased, I set out into the wilds of the Internets to find lodgings. Here I discovered that something had changed since my last New York visit. You may recall that in September of 2001 the city experienced some unpleasantness, and that tourism declined thereafter. I guess people were afraid, what, that the bad guys were gonna come back and finish the job? Whatever the reason, for a couple years after that you could get really good deals on hotels, because they were trying to get tourists to return.

Well, tourism must be back to its pre-2001 levels now, because the city has returned to its original position of not giving a damn whether anyone visits or not. In fact, they'd prefer you don't. Some of the hotels charge prices so high that I have to assume their purpose is to actively discourage people from booking rooms there. "Stay home!" the prices seem to say. "We don't want you here."

I searched for creative, low-budget options. There are hostels, but I did that once, in London, and I didn't want to repeat the experience. You pay only $20 or $30 a night, but you share a room with five strangers, all of whom also don't want to pay real money for a hotel, which means they're all hippies or college students or deadbeats or Europeans or some other class of people I don't want to share quarters with. Plus, being on the registry of known snoring offenders, there was the strong chance I would be murdered in my sleep.

(Also: Once you are above the age of 30, you should not stay in a hostel. I have a lot of rules about what you should and shouldn't do once you're 30, and I just thought of that one.)

I also looked at options outside of Manhattan. Hoboken and Weehawken are in New Jersey, which is a shameful place to be, but they're just across the Hudson River from Manhattan. There were places I could stay in Weehawken, for example, that are closer to Times Square than Brooklyn is.

Unfortunately, most hoteliers in New Jersey have realized how close they are to New York and jacked up their prices accordingly. The exception was a place in Weehawken that offered rooms, through Travelocity and some of the other websites, for as little as $100 a night. This was by far the cheapest thing I'd found anywhere remotely close to the city. One hundred dollars in Manhattan itself wouldn't get you a spot on a park bench.

I was considering booking a room at this discount hotel when I looked at the reviews it had gotten from other travelers. They were filled with alarm and horror. "THE FILTHIEST PLACE I'VE EVER STAYED!" "THERE WAS STILL POLICE TAPE AROUND THE BED!" "A RAT ATE MY WALLET!" "MY HOOKER DIED!" The litany of complaints against this hotel encompassed every possible aspect of the place, and it convinced me not to stay there, at least eventually. At first I thought it might be fun to stay there just for the stories I would get from it. Then I remembered that it is unwise to spend so much money for the sake of a joke, as Nicolas Cage's hairpiece will tell you.

Finally, Travelocity suggested something that had not occurred to me: the YMCA. They have cheap, no-frills rooms for out-of-town visitors, there's one in midtown Manhattan, you can get yourself clean, you can have a good meal, you can do whatever you feel! My understanding was that it's fun to stay at the YMCA.

Truthfully, all I knew about the YMCA was what I'd heard in the song about it. And yes, I'm aware of the subtextual connotations of that particular anthem; from what I gather, the YMCA in the late '70s was a much less savory place than it is now (although I guess that's true of most things in the late '70s). Today it is far more reputable, free of shenanigans and eager to have people forget its old, seedy image. My only apprehension about staying there, really, was that I might have that song stuck in my head the whole time.

I booked three nights at the YMCA and made arrangements to stay with a couple friends in Hoboken for two nights thereafter. (The YMCA is cheap, but it's not free.) I breathed a sigh of relief when I checked in and found my room to be clean and seemingly hepatitis-free. The YMCA's rooms are about the size of a small dorm room, with a narrow twin bed, a desk (but no chair), a small refrigerator, a TV, and an air conditioner in the window. Each floor has men's and women's bathrooms with private shower facilities, and while the staff seemed to have booked men and women on different ends of the floor, there were no rules about who was allowed to go where (other than the bathrooms, obviously). So I suppose if a man wanted to bring a lady friend back to his YMCA room to hook up, he'd be free to do so, although such a proposition ought to be seen as a red flag for both parties: for her if he suggests it, and for him if she agrees to it.

The room, in all its cheap splendor. Note: The photo is not blurry; the room itself is.

For me, staying here was merely practical, of course; it's not like I was planning to hang out in my room at the YMCA all day. But that first night, sitting on the bed, reading a book in the dim light, I realized how depressing the whole place was. The room -- bare and bleak and uninviting -- was like a prison cell. It seemed like the kind of place you would go if you were a troubled loner who wanted to plan an assassination, or commit suicide, or write a manifesto.

And I had not taken into account the bed. My goodness, the bed. I knew the YMCA would be a no-frills operation, and that was fine. What I had not expected was that the bed would consist of a very thin prison-style mattress on top of: a wooden box. No springs, no second mattress, just a box made out of plywood, with that four-inch-thick "mattress" on top of it.

Even in the spirit of "roughing it," this was unacceptable. The human body, even a soft, doughy one like mine, cannot adjust to such conditions enough to get a comfortable night's sleep. It turns out it's not fun to stay at the YMCA. Not fun at all! That song is a liar. Village People? More like Village Idiots!!!!!

As I lay there, trying to fall asleep and constantly failing at it, I knew the only way I could possibly endure two more nights of this was if I had something to look forward to when it was over. Unfortunately, as you'll recall, my post-YMCA plan was to spend two nights on my friends' couch in Hoboken. This couch would surely be more comfortable than the YMCA bed -- a bed made of car batteries, fiberglass insulation, and fire would be more comfortable than the YMCA bed -- but it wasn't enough of a reward for surviving three nights on the Wooden Box of Sadness. I needed a better incentive for myself.

So the next morning I went on Priceline and booked a real hotel to replace those two Hoboken nights. The hotel promised a comfortable bed and my own bathroom! (It's amazing what you look forward to after you stay at the YMCA.) Knowing I had this waiting for me when my stint at the Y was finished, I managed those next two nights just fine, the way prisoners of war keep themselves sane by dreaming of the cheeseburgers they'll eat and the girls they'll kiss when they get home. Of course, POWs probably sleep on things that are more comfortable than the beds at the YMCA, so I think you'll agree that I'm even more of a hero than they are.

Comments & Reaction:

I'll probably write another column about the day in New York that I spent with my Hoboken friends, but I'll mention here that one of them contributed the line "MY HOOKER DIED!" So he is to be thanked for his efforts. The establishment in question, called the Park Avenue Hotel, is described here.

SnideCast intro: "YMCA," the Village People; outro: "Who Will Be the Real Hero?," Michael McLean and John Batdorf.

This item has 32 comments

Adrianne says:
June 2, 2008 at 6:12 am
I went to NYC last summer with a friend, and we stayed in a hostel. You can pay a little more (I think it was $40 a night) to have your own bathroom. It wasn't as bad as I thought...but I didn't appreciate the cockroach that lived under the TV. It took me a bottle of hairspray and 15 minutes to kill that sucker.
Lane says:
June 2, 2008 at 6:48 am
Amidst all the "I Love New York" shirts being sold and worn throughout Manhattan, I saw one local who clearly wasn't happy about the rejuvenated tourism. His shirt said "Go Love Your Own City".

Later that night, I went back to Jersey and curled up on a friend's cousin's loveseat. Maybe an air mattress on top of the YMCA bed would have helped.
Dave says:
June 2, 2008 at 6:57 am
Future book title:

"Snide Remarks 3: A Rat Ate My Wallet."
dichotomy says:
June 2, 2008 at 7:20 am
The YHA in NY has to be an example of one of the nosiest hostels I have ever stayed in. 12 people per room- and those of us who went to bed prior to midnight, then had to put up with others wandering in and out for the next FOUR HOURS turning the fricken light on.

Eric's no hostel rule after 30 is a good one and one I will live my life by. Never EVER again.
Tom says:
June 2, 2008 at 11:27 am
No college dorm rooms after 30, either. The dormitories at my alma mater are like the YMCA that Eric described.

The college invites returning alumni to stay in the dorms for Commencement Weekend, which I attended over Memorial Day (it was my 40th reunion), but I declined and booked myself a motel room 12 miles away. After a certain age, one needs that private bathroom.
kevith says:
June 2, 2008 at 3:33 pm
I would really like to see Eric's entire list of things you should and shouldn't do once you turn 30. That line made me smile a little more because I'd just read the review for "Georgia Rule" where he makes fun of one of the characters for making arbitrary spur-of-the-moment rules about everything. "No staying in hostels after 30. Eric rule."
Holly says:
June 2, 2008 at 4:24 pm
My husband and I booked a 500 sq. foot apartment for a two-week vacation in NYC last year. Peoples' eyes would bug out when I told them about the good deal it was at $250/night, but it really was a decent price for what we got. As semi-old fat people, accustomed to sleeping in a king-sized bed, we were certain we needed at least a queen-sized bed with minimal vermin. Our apartment delivered--the bed was more comfortable than ours at home and the only vermin were the ones we brought in on our persons after a day of wandering the city. We even had a lovely view of New Jersey and the Hudson River. Who doesn't want to watch the authorities perform their morning body-fishing ritual during breakfast?

Pre-trip I spent dozens of hours online looking for accommodations and determined that you could get a cheaper room, but sacrifices (ie: space, cleanliness, safety, dignity) would be involved.

Check out www.homeaway.com for apartment-style accommodations and bedandbreakfast.com for more hotel alternatives.
Kris says:
June 2, 2008 at 6:35 pm
I'm planning a girl's trip in September, after Labor Day, and after 9/11, when I thought the prices would be completely jacked up, and they are still jacked up! We stayed a couple of years ago at a Comfort Inn right off of Times Square for $150 a night, and the cheapest, crappy dumps are at last $200. New York has become un-American.
Dude Abides says:
June 2, 2008 at 6:47 pm
I just stayed in Manhattan for 3 nights at the Hotel Riverside Studios for $300 total ($85/night plus taxes). I would do that again in a heartbeat. It was 2 blocks from the subway on 71st Street on the west side.

The bed was crap, the bathroom was down the hall, and I always wore flip-flops when walking around on that carpet. But my room had a TV, fridge, and clean linens and towels.

So with the $500+ I saved on hotels, I was able to see tons of great theater, eat great food, and really enjoy the city that never sleeps (the city never sleeps because most everyone has small beds).
notJoeKing says:
June 2, 2008 at 6:47 pm
Great column this week. I'm looking forward to someone becoming morally offended by the reference to POWs and posting their incoherant rant. :)
Laura F says:
June 2, 2008 at 7:03 pm
But . . . but . . . I sleep on a foam mattress on a wooden box every night!

For real. My dad built the frame out of a plywood, and the foam probably isn't more than four inches thick. I have back problems sometimes, so the firmness is good. Of course, the foam is this furniture-grade high-tech something that is used for the really amazing sofas and chairs built in the factory where my dad works as an office manager. I don't think you can actually get that foam anywhere else, since it was invented just for them. But still.

I like my bed.
Marie says:
June 2, 2008 at 7:41 pm
So, Eric...As a recently turned 30-year old what are your other rules for us?
Lauren says:
June 2, 2008 at 8:26 pm
As a New Yorker who enjoys making fun of the aimlessly wandering Times Square tourists who seem not to understand simple concepts like not standing still in the middle of a busy crosswalk to take a picture of the Toys R Us store, I must get my hands on that "Go Love Your Own City" t-shirt. :P
Skizat says:
June 2, 2008 at 8:49 pm
Or you could have stayed on my unused futon bed in my apartment on 176th st, right next to the A line. I can't believe you didn't even ask!
Momma Snider says:
June 3, 2008 at 1:57 am
That's actually a good idea, Eric. Next time you could post something on your blog, asking if any of your readers have an extra bed. Then you could spend what you would have spent on hotels to check them out and make sure they're not Axe Murderers.
Sarah says:
June 3, 2008 at 2:47 am
#5--Did you go to Oberlin? Only school I know of that has Commencement that late...
The UnMighty says:
June 3, 2008 at 4:40 am
I stayed in a hostel in NY with a friend and a Brit named James who spent, as far as I could tell, all his time sitting on the edge of his bed, in tighty-whities, scratching his balls. Needless to say, it was magical.
Tom says:
June 3, 2008 at 1:33 pm
#16--I did indeed go to Oberlin, Sarah. Good guess! But other Commencements are later; in fact, Princeton is having its ceremony today (June 3).
Jane says:
June 3, 2008 at 3:45 pm
Hey Tom and Sarah- I went to Oberlin too! Maybe we should start a Sniderites alumni group.
Kristina says:
June 4, 2008 at 2:40 am
I got fleas staying at a hostel in Russia! Won't repeat the experience for anything...
Deb says:
June 4, 2008 at 4:08 am
When (in the 70s) I first heard people talking about staying in a hostel, I was confused--I thought it was "hostile" and... well, you get the idea. I have never quite gotten over the hostile hostel connotation. LOL
John Doe says:
June 4, 2008 at 5:14 am
What a coincidence, I just spent Friday night at a hostel in Hong Kong. I had 2 roommates who I saw, but didn't really speak to (I was tired and tried to sleep; they came in and went to sleep and I got up and left before either of them) . The place was clean and pleasant enough. Very small though (pretty much room for a bunk bed, a normal bed and a shelf. No real standing room. But it had A/C.

No nightmare stories here, but I don't really want to repeat it. The building the hostel was in looked more ghetto than ghetto should ever be. Like it was diseased. I was so relieved that the hostel itself was nice. For $12, it was quite a steal. Especially since a 500ml bottle of water in Hong Kong is over $1 and most shops are smaller than a college dorm room (space is at a premium is my point).
Yozhik says:
June 4, 2008 at 11:02 pm
Eric, if you're willing to stay in Jersey, about a 45-minute drive from the city, we have a really comfy spare bed. We're a short walk away from the train station, too. All we ask is that you autograph something for us.
Pumpkin says:
June 5, 2008 at 3:44 am
When my hubby and I went to New York we stayed in a hostel. We killed four roaches over our stay, so at least the crappy room at the YMCA seems a bit better than that.
Markk says:
June 5, 2008 at 9:51 am
I'm turning 30 in six weeks, so I am very interested in Eric's rules of what not to do after 30 - so I cram everything in before my birthday.

Please post that list quickly, Eric. I'm running out of time!
Rob D. says:
June 5, 2008 at 10:49 am
Living in Vegas, if I had a quarter for every time I heard: MY HOOKER DIED!............I would be able to afford any hotel room in any city.
Heather says:
June 6, 2008 at 4:03 pm
Amen to the no Hostels after 30 comment. Although I have heard that there are some for the over 30 croud. I imagine that they are filled with little old ladies and spinsters though.

I stayed at a Hostel in London that smelled like Urine. One in Inverness that hosted a "Dress like your favorite porn star" party one night. One in Brussels, that scared the living daylights out of me. etc, etc, etc. They sure are interesting places to rest your head.
Alaskatrav says:
June 6, 2008 at 7:33 pm
Here's another rule for things you don't do after you're 30- wear your baseball cap with the bill in the back. I was tempted to state it as "Wear your ballcap backwards", but apparently that'd be confusing for those who think the bill belongs in the back. You see guys over 30, some even over 40, wearing their caps backwards and you just want to walk up to them and say, "Dude, you look preposterous- turn your damned hat around."
Mona says:
June 10, 2008 at 5:52 pm
In May 2006 I stayed in the Super 8 in Manhattan on about 45th Street, so close to the theaters and other great places--it was $135/night! The building was old (as is everything around it). The lobby was elegant, sparkling & pleasant--the place must have once been a more upscale hotel. The rooms were very small and had obviously been partitioned from larger rooms. Bed was comfortable, bathroom fine, no creatures in view. I'd recommend it, though I doubt it's $135 cheap anymore.
hecowe says:
June 24, 2008 at 4:10 am
As I sit in a luxury cabin in the breezy Idaho wilderness, I am falling off my chair and weeping from laughter, as are my son and husband. "My hooker died!" You owe your friend from Hoboken a really nice dinner for that one.
cindyf says:
June 29, 2008 at 11:33 am
I've made my own list of rules once I turned 30 as well. One is to not mock mini-vans anymore. If your still doing this into your 30s, and you have four squished kids in the back of your sedan, it's just kind-of pathetic. Another is to not text message more than is absolutely necessary. We grew up in the typewriter era. We have no business texting 100+ messages to bffs per day when a phone call will do.
Kyle M. says:
August 12, 2008 at 2:37 am
Super late to the game on this one...but you can actually stay in NY for a decent price. My wife and I have a 1BR in downtown manhattan, and every time we go on vacation we sublet our place to random vacationers that find us on Craigslist. You can get a great manhattan apartment all to yourself for $80 to $200 a night.

Also, be very afraid of Weehawken.

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