"You're At The Wrong Doubletree."

Whenever I step foot in NYC, lately, my anxiety level goes up a notch. I think I am too jaded from my year here recently. So the moment I set foot in here, and something is slightly "off," my instinct is to roll my eyes and give an "EMMM EFFF!!!!" with my fists shaking to the sky.

I am in NYC for a few days for work. I took the train into Penn Station. Since I arrived right before "shift change" for the taxis, I decided to take the subway up to Times Square... As the hotel the executive assistant I share booked me at "The Doubletree in Times Square."

I have actually stayed at the Doubletree is Times Square before in the past. So I didn't really understand why the assistant was so apologetic about having to book me there.

"It's the only place available. I am so sorry," she said.

"What are you sorry about?" I told her. "I've stayed there before, on my own dime. It's an easy location. The rooms aren't bad. Thanks so much for finding me something."

Well, now I understand why she was so apologetic.

Where was I? Oh yes... The subway...

I took the subway to Times Square. It was crazy, as usual.  So many people. I trollied my luggage through the dirty streets and up five blocks to the hotel.  I get up to the check-in desk and give the man my credit card.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I'm not seeing your reservation. Do you have your confirmation number?"

I immediately knew what the problem was.

"Is there another Doubletree in the area?" I asked. "Though it's weird. I know my itinerary reads 'Times Square.'"

"Yes," he confirmed. "There are actually two Doubletree hotels in Times Square."

"No problem," I smiled. "Where's the other one?"

"Well," he paused. I knew this was going to be bad. "It's on 36th between 8th and 9th."

"But that's 12 blocks away," I said. "That's not even Times Square. That's Hell's Kitchen."

He gave me a look of sympathy. Clearly, he has had this conversation a number of times before with other guests.

"Our doorman would be happy to get you a cab," he offered.

But I knew that would be a hassle. It was shift change, after all. And cans were only going to want to pick up fares that needed to go to Queen's to get to the airport. They didn't want to go south.

So I walked the 12 blocks. With my suitcase and heavy as hell laptop. I got to the dodgey area where the hotel was. Right next to the Lincoln Tunnel. Classy.

Again, no wonder the assistant was so apologetic. She definitely knows enough about NYC hotels, having had to book them a number of times for us.

What peeves me, though, is I didn't even have to go to Times Square. I could have gotten off the train at Penn Station and walked the three blocks.