I’m a fan of W Hotels. Slick marketing, a trendy crowd and overpriced drinks appeal to the travel elitist in me. But despite my love of most things W, I’ve always thought their “Whatever, Whenever” catchphrase was a bit gimmicky. I’ve never really pushed the envelope on this, but I think if they’re going to use that phrase to answer the phone, they need to commit to that level of service when a guest requests it.
I’m surprisingly undemanding; you won’t see me requesting red-only M&Ms or organic feather pillows. But I do need to eat. Recently I woke up on at 11:10 on a Saturday morning at the W Washington DC, dehydrated and starving from the boozy evening before. One of the quirks of W Hotels is that most of them stop serving breakfast at 11:00am on weekends, as if somehow they don’t fully appreciate the demographic they are catering to.
Frustrated that I missed the french toast cutoff by mere minutes, I called down and was politely informed that they were no longer serving breakfast. I equally politely mumbled something about how that proves “Whatever, Whenever” is a sham.
I had french toast in my room within twenty minutes. You win, W. Actually, we both won.