pov, w hotel, 515 15th street, nw, dc

at long last, it's open. dc's first w hotel. in all its glory glory hallelujah. formerly the tattered hotel washington - home of the best view in town [available to the public]. me, i don't give a sqeaky squirrel's arse about the hotel itself. the girls and i have been discussing how cool it would be to james brown style getonup to the rooftop terrace after years of construction. how touristy of us. as you know we like to be in the know though. [hey, a poem.]

a big hip hip hip. hooray. what the f took so long for those starwood dudes to bring a w to dc anyway? whatever the story on that, they did indeed procure the primest, fattest, ballin' property in town. and, though i haven't dined there yet, there'a also the jg steakhouse, by none other than jean-georges (our first jean-georges spot here. can i take a moment to ask 1) why did that take so long and 2) do we need another potbelliedsuitwearingman steakhouse in dc? hell. what about our rights to jean-georges genius asian cuisine?

back to the rooftop. everyone knows the former washington hotel had the best view known to [washingtonian] man. from here you can see the white house, all the executive office buildings - some brilliant architecture, the monument, the jefferson and all the way to the burbs. a breathtaking view.

so after months of trying to figure out what to do for one of my best girlfriend's birthdays, the w hotel opened in perfect timing last month and it seemed apropos of a celebration, considering we didn't quite get our $hit together for a trip to australia or greece.

i will say this: in this town, it's easier to pass a healthcare reform bill and confirm a supreme court justice than it is to get a reservation here. birthday hottie planned the party herself as she wanted to include her co-workers as well as her buddies. the w rat bastahd reservationists won't answer the phone so she had to be-bop over there in person one afternoon to speak with someone about space for 30 of her nearest dearest.

they have a weird reservation process for pov. stressing the words weird process. this is a bonus for all y'all's information [that's oklahoman plural possessive for fyi]. see, if i'm repeating this correctly, they take reservations from 4:30 to 6:30 pm, and then again after 8:30. so, if you're a walk-in, they can perhaps seat you between 6:30 and 8:30. i'm sure there's some scientific calculation to this seemingly nonsensical mumbo jumbo. but that's the dealio. do what you will with it. all i can say is thank heavens we reserved space. and i explicitly suggest you do as well.

running a tad late. shoulda taxied. taxi, people - there's no reason in midsummer to drive to downtown dc (through the mall and monuments over to the white house area) dodging the hotdogpretzel-eaters and fbi t-shirt buyin' bozos.

also, you never know what vip is staying at the w or next door at the williard and this can monkey wrench your timeliness. tonight it was the president of iran or someone reasonably important. the po po had f street blocked off and this raucous was using up the normal swarm of valet parking staff for themselves and their superstretched limos.

i'm not gonna bag on the valet guys at the w who perhaps saw this coming but didn't adjust their plan accordingly. when i drove up, idling behind a few cars, i could see there was some kind of cluster-f going on. i patiently waited a few minutes until steam started coming out of my ears. trying to get a handle on the hullabaloo, i put 'er in park and pressed that triangular hazard button [one of the great things about dc is you actually use this little red button in your car a lot. me, i love that clicking sound].

fortunately i was looking tremendously fabulous in a new missoni frock {they were practically giving it away at bergdorf's - mother of all chevron stripes i'm still in love with this dress and am so lucky to have snatched it up}. as you well know, sometimes it pays to feel like a million and one bucks because things fall into place for you in more ways than you can imagine. valet angel facilited my potential parking nightmare faster than you can say "nice shoes, biatch." he could tell my head was about to pop off and he swiftly and kindly said he'd take care of my car so i could join the birthday party for 30 people (yes i told him i was a part of the private party going on - clearly it might not get going til this gorgeoused up vision arrived). kidding. sort of.

all this and i'm still only running 20 minutes behind. nice, yes?

for the love of the not so secret service guarding the building [am i the only one who thinks guys wearing those earpieces with baby slinkies on them are hotter than they would be otherwise?], the new lobby entrance and "living room" as they call it is spectacular. i'm so having drinks here in the winter. a total clash of soho modern sleek with classic italian working in definitive harmony. i'm in love with this grand room.

what i'm not about to be in love with is the line for the elevator to the rooftop terrace. this is a serious warning, my friends: a line of 40 people awaiting their ride on the brass elevator. again, panic nearly sets in. thankfully i hold the ability to text with the speed of a peregrine falcon. as does birthday girl. next thing ya know "elevator hostess" ushers me right through those splendid doors and up i go. if you have this coveted status of reservationed, just speak with little gatekeepergirl in black dress holding clipboard. otherwise get in line with the cattle. and pray to the gods of see and be seen that you get a ride to the top.

the rooftop terrace looks much the same as it did the last time i was here 5 or 7 years ago. only cool. sleek, modern, red loungers, black tables, white and green accents. lots and lots of dressed in head-to-toe-black staff running around. we did get really great service i think, considering how busy it is up there.

i was somewhat troubled that the crowd here would be geographically undesirable [touristy] and ill-fashioned. delightfully not so. there were lots of attractives. i saw several people i vaguely recognized - most importantly a rare creature i'll call a dc-hottie i think know from somewhere, who knows. in my mind i planned to strike up convo with him. "you look familiar, how do we know eachother?" wasn't coming to mind though. rats. birthday girl recognizes him as being married she thinks. ah well, i had too many fun friends to catch up with.

and, due to the sweltering day it was, people are sweating like cochons (that's french for pigs). subsequently, my double-stacked platform patent leather louboutins were pinching my lil fred flintstone toes together, sending a shooting pain through my feet within 15 minutes. crap. managing to look cute while suffering such a cruel level of agony is a challenge. for some.

i can't speak about the food or even what's on the menu at pov; sorry. but who really cares with this type of view and crowd? [oh and huge bonus: bathroom is ginormous, thank you, kind w people.] i can tell you the drinks are fun. after enjoying a couple glasses of bubbly, i switched to this lovely looking and sweet-tart cocktail of fresh strawberries and lemonade with vodka. yummy. as pretty as they are, beware, they're shifty.

how do i know? the fact that birthday girl and i were (hopefully not) seen microwaving burritos at 7-11 later that night should enlightenscare you.