FlyerTalk Forums - A Hangover as Big as the Ritz

The title is of course, riffing on the F.Scott Fitzgerald short-story which I read on the flight home as part of the short story compilation "Tales of the Jazz Age,” and because on this trip, as I often do, I found an excuse to check out another Ritz-Carlton.

I can't say there was much to the "planning" of this weekend. A large group of the guys from my Fraternity in college planned to get together in Chicago for the Ohio State v. Northwestern game. This was primarily due to the fact that 1. Many of them live in Chicago, 2. it's easy for pretty much everyone to get to Chicago and 3. NW is a pretty terrible football team, so it's quite easy to get a large block of tickets at a reasonable price (more on that later).

That being said, I booked a roundtrip Y ticket on AA and decided to roll the dice on the upgrade. I would fly into Chicago on Friday AM (the game would be 7:30pm local on Friday) and split a room at the W City Center with one of my buddies. We would remain at the W Saturday evening as well. When most of the out of towners departed on Sunday, I would move to the more comfortable confines of the Ritz and spend a day in comfort, swaddled in a bathrobe recovering before undertaking the journey back East. It was a simple plan.

As the day of departure neared, the remaining J space on AA 1255 dwindled. By the morning of departure, I was #4 on the upgrade list, inventory was down to J0, and it looked certain that I was destined to end up in 15A. As an EXP on track to finish with 200k EQM this year (I was around 174k before this flight) and 20k+ rolling EQD, not being able to clear a simple LGA-ORD and not even being at the top of the list did not sit well.

I awoke refreshed on Friday morning, somewhat irked that the flight I had planned to undertake the previous evening (a night cross country to ABE) had been scrubbed due to high winds. The winds had somewhat dissipated but were still blowing 20+, I hoped they would not delay my departure for Chicago.

I grabbed a large iced coffee from the airport DD, then made my way to the AMEX Lounge. I am not a big breakfast guy, but in my limited recent experiences, I cannot name better french toast than what's on offer in the AMEX Lounge at LGA. I actually make a point of showing up early enough to have 15-20 minutes in the lounge to eat breakfast before morning flights. It's really good.

After that brief 15-20 minutes, it was time to head to security, as the flight was still showing on time.

The TSA precheck line was an absolute disaster. While almost no one was on line for the regular economy security or for premium security there was a 20+ person pile up for precheck. After studying this for a few minutes, I popped out of line, and proceeded to the completely empty premium security line. Taking my laptop out would be a small price to pay for saving myself 15+ minutes of standing on line.

Since I was precheck, I was instructed to keep my shoes on. I took the laptop out, slid the bags into the machine and very quickly was sorted, while the rest of those travelers unable or unwilling to audible remained stuck on the precheck line. Best of luck to them!

At the gate, not only was I still #4 , but even #1 hadn't cleared. This was not going to be my day on the upgrade front.

I settled in to seat 15A, and the woman in the row 14 MIDDLE turned around and asked if I would swap seats with her so she could sit next to her husband. Now I like to be accommodating when I can, but if you think I am going to trade an Exit Row window for a middle that doesn't recline, you're insane. Without even going into my mentally ill need to select windows, it's borderline insulting that this woman even had the NERVE to suggest such a swap to anyone. I politely declined.

Things went downhill from there. Her husband, now angry at not getting his way took the middle next to me and promptly jammed his elbows over the divider and into my ribs. I shoved his arm out of my space with a jostle from my elbow. He said "don't touch me." I told him the arm rest was meant to be shared and his elbow was well over the arm rest and in my seat. He replied "if you don't like it, you can move." I told him "so can you my friend." He tried to push his arm in again, I pushed it away and he said "don't touch me." I told him not to touch me, and if he kept his arm to himself, there would be no issue. At this point he asked the aisle if that guy would switch with his wife. The aisle refused. Middle seat scowled.

Finally, I suppose realizing 1. no one was going to change with him and 2. he was not going to be able to bully me into swapping with his wife, he tucked his arm into his space, I remained in mine and the flight continued without issue. He was quite a jerk.

We got into ORD a bit early and I took a cab to the hotel because the uber pickup point was apparently far away and I wasn't exactly sure of it's location.

My buddy had already arrived, and he was in bad shape. Even though he knew this was going to be a rough weekend, he had inexplicably chosen to go out HARD by himself the previous evening in NYC. As a result, he got about 45 minutes of sleep before heading to the airport to catch his WN flight out of EWR.

When I got to our room, he was tucked into bed trying to take a power nap to sustain him for the duration of the coming festivities.

The W itself has a nice enough lobby bar, the trouble is you enter from the street into the bar before you get to reception and it feels like you're walking into a nightclub.

I will never understand the appeal of W hotels. They are often priced close to or worse than true luxury options and they offer nothing but flash. All hat, no cattle. The W takes some sleek, bright furnishings, replaces service with a haughty indifferent attitude and somehow has convinced millennials this is a desirable experience. It's almost a perfect business plan tailored to relieve idiot millennials of their $. I say this as a millennial. Instead of paying for nice rooms and good service, they pay for shiny things and indifference because really they don't know any better. I can't think of any W I have ever had a good stay at.

The W City Center was no different. After getting my key from the 20 something year old girl behind the desk wearing jeans (oh how cool! They are casual!) I took the elevator up to the room. The hallways look like a cross between an office corridor and a low budget post-college megacomplex. The rooms are stark white which I suppose is meant to be a "cool" cover for their total lack of decor. I think there was something idiotic written on the cabinet, some sort of "inspirational" saying. Vomit. At least the beds were comfortable.

I woke my buddy up and told him it was time to get moving. We both showered, got ready, then waited downstairs for another friend to emerge from the JW, then we all ubered to an Ohio St. bar in Lincoln Park called McGees.

7 or 8 of the other guys were already well into the drinks by the time we arrived. I've been hearing about White Claw for months, but as I have mostly been out of the country since May, I haven't tried it. There was a bucket on the table when we arrived, so I dove right in. Tastes like seltzer, but has more alcohol than beer. I suppose it's OK?

We hung around the bar for a bit, then went to the liquor store to pick up Crown, Fireball and more Claws to sustain us on the ride to the tailgate and to smuggle into the game. Finally we popped into a bar and did a round of shots so that we would qualify as customers and feel justified in using the facilities.

Then, we were on the appropriately colored Purple Line to Evanston.

Now I speak to a handful of my Fraternity brothers on a daily basis, and others somewhat less frequently. However, in the years since college, we've ended up all over the country and World. So, while I might be able to pop in and see the guys not in the NY area and maybe a few of us coordinate, this was by far the largest gathering since college. There were probably ~30 of us there at the tailgate, including a few guys I hadn't seen in years.

As we're in our 30s now there was a BIT too much talk about people's kids in the early going, but once a few rounds went down the hatch, the facade of the responsible executive and family man chipped away and the old character came to the surface. People can wear masks and pretend to varying degrees, but they rarely actually change. For better or for worse. In this case, for better. It's always special when you haven't seen an old friend for a few years and then you fall right back into things as if you'd only just recently parted ways. It was awesome being with the guys, and we tailgated on the golf course near the stadium for a few hours to get prepped for the game.

We had seats in a corner behind the end zone at Ryan Field. Now I thought the guy who organized our block had just been on top of it and gotten tickets locked in quickly. Sometime in the 2nd quarter, a NW media rep came up and started talking to him, then the real story came out...

He had called NW and told them he coached a youth football team of NW fans, and he needed a block of tickets for his players. It was on the strength of this fabricated story that he'd be able to get so many tickets together. The rep told him NW had been planning on bringing the group out on the field at halftime and everything. Of course, by now, well in the bag, we all thought it was about the funniest thing we'd ever heard. Even the NW guy found it pretty amusing. He put his notepad away, informed us that we would not be needed on the field at halftime and left with a good natured goodbye. Oh the schemes!

After a slow start, the Bucks ran the score up to 31-3 by halftime. While I wanted to stay for the entire game, since after all, it was the reason we all came out to Chicago, a large contingent wanted to bail and go back to the bars. They seemed to be jazzed to be away from their nagging wives and screaming babies and they wanted to maximize their free time and debauchery. Besides, by halftime, all the alcohol we'd brought in with us was gone, and they don't sell booze at Ryan Field. No one wanted to risk a night killing come down and early onset hangover.

While a few of the more thrifty souls suggested we take the train back the way we came, they were overruled and a phenomenally overpriced uber was procured. You will never hear me say it wasn't the right call. Some of our group were still at the initial bar, having never left for the tailgate and having missed the game altogether. We met up with them, and the waves of stragglers that came in post-game. The Bucks ended up with a 52-3 win and our drinking tour continued until close to daylight.

The following AM, my roommie and I woke up around 11am local. While I was significantly the worse for wear, he was better off than he'd been the previous day, since he'd slept considerably longer than 45 minutes.

We watched SCAR's upset bid against Florida, then when they started coming apart at the seams, gave up and began showering for Day #2 .

We me some of the boys at City Hall in the West Loop. While I had thought that I was feeling OK, the crowd, loud noises and very bright daylight at City Hall did not support that conclusion. After four draft beers, the fuzziness in my head started to clear and I returned to something approaching normal. Hair of the dog. You know that you've been making bad decisions when it's the kind of day that you need four lunch beers to straighten your head out.

Not wanting to stray from that course, I switched to whisky.

A parade of old friends continued to arrive, guys from the previous day and other Chicago based non-college friends that I wanted to catch up with.

We continued on to other venues, but thankfully had the good sense not to push the festivities all night.

I woke up around 9am Sunday. My buddy was in the shower, cutting it close for his 10:55am out of ORD. It looked like a tornado had whipped through our room. Sheets and blankets everywhere and shreds of a Lou Malnatis box filled with the detritus of a late night pizza order.

I bid adieu to my buddy, he's also a NY'er, so i'll see him next weekend then tried to go back to sleep. I quickly realized this was not in the cards, and decided I might as well get moving.

I packed my bags and prepped for departure. In my old age, I have learned that whenever possible, you should book a maintenance day to recover after a spree weekend. There are few things on Earth worse than going to the airport and dealing with the lines, the crowds and the hassle when you are suffering from a debilitating hangover.

In the planning stages of this weekend, I knew that it would be rough come Sunday morning, and I knew I could wait until Monday AM for my return flight. While I absolutely LOVE the Peninsula in Chicago and think it's the best hotel in the city, I wanted to check out the Ritz, as I have an affinity for the chain.

The ABA has pre-negotiated rates with a number of hotels in the US and around the world, and the ABA rate is down to last room availability. Under this scheme, I booked a suite at the Ritz-Carlton Chicago for only $425. Finally, some benefit to being a lawyer.

In the intervening time, I asked my TA if he could assume control of the booking to get me the virtusoso throw-ins, but he could not.

My uber dropped me at the hotel and when I got to the desk they had good news and bad news. I had been upgraded from an Executive Suite to a ~1,000 sqft Lakeside Suite and apparently they had decided to apply all the benefits because I had a F&B credit and breakfast included. However, my room was not yet ready.

This was a very minor setback, so I told them I would wait in the lobby until it was ready and dropped my bags. Also, this stay would finish my Platinum Bonvoy Qual for 2019.

About 20 minutes later my room was all set. It was a lovely room and the staff were great at the RC, but still...not on par with the Peninsula.

I had a glorious day that involved never leaving my suite, bathtub, bathrobe, room service and a fluffy bed. These are the things dreams are made of. Around 11pm, I could stand it no more and I killed the lights and drifted off to sleep.

In the morning, I figured I would ram in a quick breakfast before heading to ORD for my 12:30pm flight. I was #4 of 25 on the upgrade list and figured it was a lost cause.

As I sat down to eat, I got a notification that my flight was now delayed until 1:30pm...more time for breakfast! I had iced coffee and a delicious short rib hash.

With breakfast done, I gathered my bags and took off for ORD, lest they surprise me by moving the flight back up and leaving without me.

Security was quick and the AAdmirals Club between H and K was right near my H4 departure gate.

My flight was further delayed to 2:03pm and I remained firmly at #4 . I flirted with the idea of a SDC to the 1:30pm since it was now scheduled to depart at 1:45pm and get in before AA 358 AND it was showing J4, but in the end figured i'd ride it out with my originally scheduled flight.

Around 1:20pm, I decided to go to the gate. Even though I was #4 , something told me to go to the desk, so I said "I know I am #4 on the list, I should probably abandon all hope?" The woman AAgent said "oh yea, no chance," but her portly compatriot said something like "You never know! we'll try to get you that upgrade!" I appreciated his spirit and told him I would keep hope alive before taking a seat in the boarding area.

#1 and #2 cleared before boarding. Then boarding began, 2 CK's, then Group 1. As Group 1 was boarding they called #3 to the desk and told him not to board as they might have an UG for him. Since I was given no such treatment, I saw this as confirmation that I would be in 15A as Group 2 began boarding.

I stowed my bags, dropped my book in 15A and ran to the back to hit the lav before boarding finished so I wouldn't have to inconvenience anyone later. While I was in the lav, my cell started ringing. A random Chicago # was calling, so I figured I should answer. It was the gate agent who had told me to keep hope alive. He asked if I was in my seat yet, and said to move up to 6A and finished with "I told you that you'd get that upgrade!" Quite a stunning turn of events, I thanked him, moved my bags up and plopped into 6A...a window seat even. Sometimes you're lucky.

I had some shockingly decent cheese enchiladas on the flight and continued working away on my book, including reading the aforementioned The Diamond as Big as the Ritz, which inspired this thread title and 1.5 hours later we were on final into LGA.

The pilot really chunked the landing. He came in too fast and smashed it down then bounced, C-. With no checked bag, I was quickly out of the airport in an uber and home.

The trip is in the books, I am putting this TR to bed in one go, and on my way to go play an 11:30pm ice hockey game. Until next time!

(Pictures to follow tomorrow)