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I'm not one to frequent
Times Square hotel bars, but one could certainly find himself in worse
places than 25 stories up, overlooking the tourists, peddlers and
Scientologists on 42nd Street. To pretend I was here for any other
reason than forced work camaraderie would be doing a disservice to
The Survey and all three folks who might see this review. It's not
to say the camaraderie was forced, but the situation that put us all
there certainly was. Why else, then, would a bunch of advertising
hipsters be sharing space at a hotel bar with Crystal from Orlando
and Chuck and his fannypack from Des Moines? This is not the W Hotel
crowd, folks. While the large windows and relatively well stocked
bar (in terms of booze and not beer) make for pleasant surroundings,
the bar itself is rather awkwardly placed, making terrible use of
the space on the floor. The area in between the bar and the windows
would seem to be the place you'd want the most square footage, but
the architects have, for some reason, given barely enough room for
four co-workers to stand two abreast while facing one another. Awkward,
to say the least. The overall boundaries on the other side of the
bar are also strange, as they're completely undefined. The bar just
kind of sits there in space, inviting anyone going to use the main
elevators to just kind of walk out and bump into it. Perhaps the whole
thing was just built as an afterthought--which is the most likely
scenario. I doubt that I will ever find myself in the Hilton again
(until next year's meeting), but if I do, I'll be sure to tell Chuck
or Larry or Kelly you said hi. [MF]
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