A boring beige cube of a room at the Hyatt Regency O'hare Airport will suck the soul out of any traveler and make you want to jump from the balcony. Oh, wait, there isn't one.
03
Feb

The Small Beige Soulless Cube

When did hotels become tiny little, beige, soulless cubes? Was it somewhere around COVID? Was the disease that stilled the earth responsible for hotel chains having an excuse to eliminate all amenities, most customer service, and hiring Lethargic Staff Members that specialize in spitting out the word, “SIR”? We are well past COVID, and yet hotels remain tepid.

Even what we once considered higher end, semi-luxury to business brands have settled for vinyl fake floors, one blanket beds (sandwiched between two top sheets that has the warming equivalent of a Scott Tissue), blonde fake wood, modernish furniture that is purely functional and reminds you of closet organizers from Ikea, restaurants serving warmed over, processed foods that you’ll pay three figures for, drinks that are carefully measured out and never generously poured, showers with heads set to “spit” mode, and coffee that is brown water. If there is in-room coffee.

I present the Hyatt Regency O’Hare Airport as a case study. I’ve stayed at the hotel for the past 12 years, as our flagship Travel and Adventure Show Green Screen Photo Booth is always at the Rosemont Convention Center which adjoins the hotel by walkways that look like they’re from the set of Star Trek.

Since I’ve stayed every year, in January, for the past dozen years I’ve seen first hand how this hotel has evolved — and not for the better. Let’s ignore the obvious: the Travel and Adventure Show always is held on the same weekend as a girl’s gymnastics meet. That means plenty of nine to fifteen year old girls literally doing back flips down the hotel hallways. But, when I book the room, I know this. Or at least assume it. As every year, for a dozen years, that’s the case. And I factor that in. So it doesn’t bother me.

Let’s back track into some hotel history for just a second. The Hyatt O’hare was designed by the same architect, John Portman, who designed the Westin Bonaventure in Los Angeles — one of my favorite hotels — and the Marriott Marquis in Times Square. Atlanta’s Peachtree Center is also part of his resume. So, it was with some surprise, when I questioned Lethargic Staff Member #1 at the front desk about the new “renovations” of the “Premier” Tower, that her response was, “Well, Sir, it is an OLD building.” She was twenty-something, so it must seem positively ANCIENT to her.

Here’s my objection about the “renovations”. They ripped out all in-room carpeting and replaced it with vinyl wood look flooring. There is an area rug between the two double beds. But in a cement cylinder that already has noise problems (the ventilation ducts adjoin rooms so sound travels through unfettered), a lack of carpet just exaggerates the problem. Then, some minimalist designer decided to paint the entire room beige. And hang beige drapes. And buy beige furniture. And not hang ANY artwork (even printed, modernist, weird artwork where you say — huh –) onto any of the walls. The result? A soulless, boring beige cube that is mildly irritating. Oh, and Hyatt did keep the motion detectors in the bathroom that automatically turn on the lights when you stumble into the bathroom at night. Of course, then you are blinded by those same lights, but at least you don’t pee on the floor. This is in addition to the light under the bed that immediately turns on when you step on the floor. The issue is, it doesn’t turn off for enough minutes to keep me awake despite a well popped Ambien and Makers combo.

Moving past the boring beige cube, because, let’s face it, boring is at least restful. There’s the food. First up, a $35 breakfast buffet. At first glance it’s quite the spread — fruit (albeit not ripe hard cut up cubes), pastries, eggs and omelets, and pancakes. Bacon. Sausage. My challenge is I don’t eat eggs, so the entire omelet station is off limits. Not Hyatt’s fault, but it makes the pancakes all the more important. They were little beige, limp discs in a steam bath. Strangely, they exactly matched the paint on my room’s walls. When I poked a few with the pick up fork, and asked if the cook could make some fresh as these were soggy and sad — Lethargic Staff Member #2 informed me they came in frozen, were heated up downstairs, then brought upstairs and placed in their steam bath. And, no, the cook “certainly can not make fresh, he makes OMELETTES.” My error, obviously. Which brings me to dinner. Remember the gymnastic girls? Well, they were lined up outside the one and only restaurant — Red– that’s open for dinner. I asked the hostess if the bar was self seating? “No, SIR!” I was informed, “Just wait your turn in line.” (The “like everybody else” was implied in tone. So I got to the back of the line. I figured half the group was together; I was wrong. My bad. I eyed a lonely little bar stool that was empty and thought it was a good place for me to order Generic Hotel Pasta, my go-to hotel dinner. True, I didn’t think anyone had actually EVER sat on the stool, as it had a view of the pole behind the bar, but at least it was past the line of 30 tweens .I waited 15 minutes. After the required wait, I was seated on the stool in front of the pole. I’m pretty sure I’m the only person to ever sit there. I felt special. I ordered the Generic Hotel Pasta. Somehow, surprisingly, it was tasteless. I know, I’m still a little shocked.

After working the green screen photo booth on Sunday, I realized my flight wasn’t until 4:30 pm the next day. I ventured to the front desk for a late checkout. Enter Lethargic Staff Member #3. “Sure!” she said, “We are happy to offer you late check out! What time is good? 2? 3?” No. That is not what she said. Instead, she said, “You have only paid for the room until 11 am the next day, and to extend the check out would be $20.” Direct quote. I decided, right on the spot, the Hyatt Regency O’hare was getting no more of my money. Ever.

I walked to dinner to Capital Grill that night. I spent three figures on scallops, a salad, a bottle of Pana water, and some bread. I was happy. It was not generic. Service was exquisite. They sat me right away. It sat adjacent to the Loews Hotel. I began to question my choice of lodging.

I left for the airport at checkout Monday morning. I sat at Southwest pre-security until I could check in, and then, once beyond security at O’hare, I grabbed both breakfast and lunch. The best part — it wasn’t at the Hyatt.

My question is this. And, in fairness, it’s not just a Hyatt issue. Marriott has its own share of Lethargic Staff Members. There was one in Atlanta who insisted my 130 nights per year Titanium and Lifetime Platinum Status most certainly DID NOT mean I could have a free bottle of water in my room at the Residence Inn. (It’s not just a ROOM, it’s a RESIDENCE!) I’ve been in many Marriott’s with the same vinyl floor, and many have no area rug at the bed, which means you track dirt straight into the bed from the plastic floor. And, of course, they invented the whole blanket with two sheets bedding ensemble. Which I despise. But, overall, I think I feel less beat up in a Marriott than I did in the Hyatt. Hilton? Oh, all you Diamond Members are feeling pretty smug right now, right? Hilton INVENTED the Lethargic Staff Member! Onetime, I had to remind a hotel front desk clerk she was at Fake Paris, Las Vegas, (at the time managed by Hilton) and not the real Paris, France. Even she had to laugh. She upgraded me. So, maybe not so lethargic. (That suite was called the Red Suite and was decked out in red shag carpeting. Hey, it’s a look and is very quiet!)

With the major chains all battling for the title of Most Mediocre, it does leave room for a new player. Sonesta Hotels is making a major foray into the national market, adding hotels at a fast clip. Perhaps too fast? Sometimes, I think, they forget to renovate. I’m wondering if I’m better off in high-end, more independent brands, like Omni Hotels or Loews. They seem a notch more sophisticated than your average Marriott or Hyatt — and come with a corresponding price tag. It seems to this traveler than the mid-range business hotel is becoming extinct. That, once catered too and pampered business travelers are suddenly forced to be sitting at a lonely hotel bar, surrounded by tweens, and facing a pole while eating tasteless generic hotel pasta.

Sad. Donald Trump are you listening? Are you fixing this? I’m sure you are.

A generic hotel beige room at the Hyatt Regency O'Hare Airport sets the standard for lethargic.