It was 82 degrees last Wednesday and all I could think about was how nice it would be to take a dip in a swimming pool. But like most New Yorkers, I don’t have a pool. And the city pools don’t open for another month (and aren’t too sexy). Still, I had water on the brain and was determined to do something about it.
I heard that there was a pool in the lobby of the Hotel QT in Midtown (125 W. 45th St.) and, although the pool is an amenity officially reserved for guests, I had been given the impression that local freeloaders were not unwelcome. Just in case there was security, I thought I should come equipped with a girl in a bikini. I phoned my friend Claudia. She was up for the adventure.
When I arrived at the hotel, on the neon outskirts of Times Square, there was a herd of hipsters blocking the entrance. “Ugh,” I thought, “It’s a velvet rope kind of place. We’re screwed.” Then I recognized some of the loiterers: the boys from Wilco, who were staying at the hotel. They wandered off in search of dinner just as Claudia arrived. She’d just finished teaching a yoga class and was ready to get wet.
We walked through the front door and were confronted with our destiny—the pool. There was a surly maintenance man who looked like he might interfere with our forward progress, but maybe he was just loafing on the clock. We walked confidently past him—one must always walk with purpose when scamming, of course—and found ourselves in the swanky lounge you must negotiate to access the pool.
We found a bathroom next to the bar where we could slip into our swimwear. A gorgeous young lady came out with a guilty look on her face. “Are you staying here?” I interrogated.
“No, I’m just here for the music,” she told me. “Tonight they’re having a party here with DJs.” As she walked away she warned us, “The toilet in there is stopped up. It’s pretty gross. But it wasn’t me, I swear.” It didn’t matter who did it—what mattered was that if the toilet were clogged, then where would everyone pee? The pool, of course.
We changed clothes and wandered into the vaulted chamber that enclosed the pool, a terraced seating area, a steam room and a sauna. The first thing I noticed was the inviting vibe. Instead of feeling pretentious it actually seemed friendly and, dare I say, a bit “free.” A dozen folks mingled on the deck while another gaggle frolicked in the chlorine. We waded into the shallow pool—it’s only four feet—and treaded over to the swim-up window where you can order drinks from the bartenders on the other side of the glass.
Soon we met our new best friend, Hot Heather, who said she had never been to the QT, but was there for the music as well. It seems that Claudia and I had serendipitously come to the hotel on the night of a semi-private monthly party: Love at the QT. Timing is everything, isn’t it?
Next we met Nick, a skilled water ballerina and regular at the Love party. He told us that it used to be impossible to get into the QT pool unless you were staying there, but that they weren’t as strict anymore. I asked around. It turns out that no one was staying in the hotel, and many had never been there before. Some said they had been invited to the party, others shyly admitted they had just snuck in for a dip. A freckled girl with a dazed look in her eyes tapped me on the shoulder. “I’m trying to find a drink,” she said. I pointed to the bar window and started to say something when she cut me off. “A free drink!”
These are my kind of people, I thought. “Well, when you find one,” I said, “I’ll have whatever it is you’re having.” She scowled at me like I had said the wrong thing. I then realized that had been her silky smooth way of asking me to buy her a drink. She waded over to the corner of the pool and sat in her boyfriend’s lap. Or maybe it was her brother; when they glared at me, I saw the resemblance.
Over the next hour, more and more revelers arrived until things got hectic and loud. DJs spun, a trumpeter blew and a human beatbox spat. Soon a percussionist joined them on the congas and a VJ projected a light show on the wall above the pool. In the water, the bathers boogied intimately in the warming water. The surly maintenance man, who apparently was also de facto lifeguard, stood watch. I wondered if he’d just wandered in off the street like everyone else.
As the music boomed, inhibitions dropped. Claudia said she felt like she was at a ’70s Playboy Mansion party. The skimpy bikinis and disco-era Speedos provided the scene with a definite Dirk Diggler ambience. While we were commenting on the flash of flesh, a bald dude shimmied up and introduced himself to Claudia as Electric Bubble. Claudia complimented him on his palm tree-print banana hammock, which left little to the imagination. He was obviously excited.
Then the splash: Nick the ballerina had cannonballed into the water-logged throng. Miraculously no one was paralyzed. Still, it was a near miss, and I decided I needed to remove myself from the potential spinal injury zone. It was time to cleanse the pores in the steam room. Nick had warned us earlier that the hot box was legendary for inducing debauchery. “Naked people, blow jobs, it gets crazy in there.” I felt I should investigate these claims.
We walked into the blinding fog of the steam room and groped our way through the bodies until we found some room to sit on the tiled bleachers. Shoulder rubs were being exchanged and a few couples were making out, but I didn’t see anything X-rated. Which surprised me. With all the heat and humidity and lack of visibility, this would be the perfect place for public sex. Or to ride out an Ecstasy buzz. And it would definitely be worth the price of admission.
Grab a bike map at your local bike store, or download the map online at nypress.com.
Floating Pool Party
This year, you’ll be able to swim in the Floating Pool, a swimming hole housed on a barge on the East River. Complete with shower facilities, locker rooms and a snack bar, the seven-lane pool will be moored near the Brooklyn Heights waterfront (betw. Piers 5 & 6 at the Brooklyn Bridge Park), although it will migrate to different locations each summer. The concept of the Floating Pool is more than a century old, and was recently brought back to life when the non-profit Neptune Foundation commissioned its development to encourage urbanites to spend more time near their rivers. If all goes as planned, the NYC Department of Parks & Recreation will officially open the Floating Pool July 4. If not, you can always check out NYC Parks’ more conventional outdoor pools; they’re still wet and, of course, free.
