Hotel Metro

Mondays are rough, and to get through the pain of knowing I have at least 50 hours of work between me and Friday night, I e-mail friends to map out Thursday's happy hour itinerary. It's not even officially summer yet, but if the forecast is promising, you'll find us up on the city's rooftops.

A lengthy debate ensues, I can't handle 230 Fifth anymore, my co-worker swears by it and just when I think I've found the right spot, UrbanDaddy goes and showcases yet another rocking rooftop.

My first attempt at planning a Thursday roof rendez-vous was a train wreck of gargantuan proportions. I sent out an e-mail to dozens of friends saying meet me at Hotel Metro's roof, only to find out their roof was closed because of an elevator mishap. Huge planning faux-pas. When will I learn to pick up a phone and talk to a person if I'm planning an event? With the help of NovaCat, I choose Red Sky as our Plan B. I call and confirm their roof is indeed open, I send out the embarrassing retraction e-mail, night of I'm a few blocks away when I start receiving various text messages of this alarming nature:

"dude, m, where is the roof?"

"m, are you here? there's a huge line."

"this place is a dungeon. do we have the right place?"

%#@$&%!?!?

I show up having a panic attack, FunnyGirl is trying to calm me down, my 30-year-old friend isn't allowed in because she forgot her ID, I'm fighting with the bouncer who tells me upstairs is closed for a private party even though I specifically called and whoever answered the phone mentioned no such thing. A friend who happened to be at the party upstairs messages me that what was advertised as a rooftop is basically a third floor deck and you're totally walled in so you don't even feel like you're outside. Kind of defeats the purpose, no? What an amazing night.

It's a wonder I've attempted to rally the crew since, but if at first you don't succeed...

My second rooftop adventure worked out a lot better. Several weeks after the Red Sky (drinkers take warning) debacle, we backtracked and finally made our way to Hotel Metro's roof. I was very pleasantly surprised. It was much bigger than I was expecting. It's only on the 13th floor so you're not too high in the sky but there aren't very many tall buildings around you, except this one:

The roof abounds with sunlight. I showed up around six o'clock and stood at a table with no chairs for about an hour or so before a family left their table to Fashionista and myself. Our biggest complaint was the drinks were small and expensive: $8 for mixed well in very small plastic cups. God forbid you like Stoli or Grey Goose. By eight the place was bumping and all the tables were packed. About a third of the space is reserved for people eating food.

As far as roofs go, on a scale from one to 10, I'd give Hotel Metro a solid seven. It's laid back atmosphere and great views of the Empire State Building make it a worthwhile place to stop in for a cocktail. As far as decor, it has too much concrete for my taste. They need to spruce it up with some plants and foliage or something. When I go to a roof, I want to be whisked away and I want to forget that I'm in a city. Hotel Metro is heavy on the cement and devoid of the awe and whimsical factors that should be felt up on the roof.

Hotel Metro
35th St. between 5th and 6th Ave.