My very first brush with the building that now houses the Newbury Boston occurred in the 1990’s, when it was still the Ritz Carlton. Dad and Mom were staying there for a medical conference, and I’d just gotten over an infirmary-stay with mono so they allowed me to stay with them. My very first meal after being down and out for a week was the room service order of breakfast pancakes that solidified my love for the property.
Andy and I would stay there again for our wedding when it was the Taj Hotel, occupying a suite overlooking the Boston Public Garden, where our ceremony took place in 2010. In the ensuing years, we’ve made many a pilgrimage there to the Street Bar (the site of pre-wedding-rehearsal cocktails and subsequent lunches) where we would celebrate our anniversaries with a walk through the lobby, examining the flowers and recalling our special times there.
Even after the property became the Newbury Boston, it would be a regular haunt whenever I was in town, providing a respite and restroom on the second floor when I would need a break from shopping; I’d pause there and make use of their exquisite Willow soap, bags in tow, and always find a quiet haven just above Newbury Street, which makes my recent visit there so heartbreaking and troubling.
This past weekend, on an annual holiday stroll with my friend Kira, I suggested we stop at the Newbury. I had just passed our large shopping bag to her, as it was her turn to carry it for a moment (and my back was bothering me). We passed The Street Bar where we contemplated a snack, then headed upstairs to wash our hands before looking into whether there was a corner table somewhere. As I waited for Kira to finish in the ladies room, I fiddled on my phone until I heard her being questioned by a security guard outside the bathroom. She was arguing with him so I came over and asked what happened.
Apparently he asked if she was a guest of the hotel, and when she said she wasn’t he told her he needed to search her bag and she was asking why. After all my years of stopping here I’d never once been questioned or asked to show what was in my bags (and I usually had a lot more than we did on that day). I asked him why he wanted to search her bag, and he said they had had things missing there. We were so taken aback neither of us thought to ask what might be missing from a hotel lobby that would warrant a search, and his attitude was not friendly in the least. He told us he had the right to search our bags no matter what, or he could call the police. At that point I calmly told him I’d like to speak with his manager. The only difference between all the times I frequented the hotel and this one was that my friend – a black female – was holding the bag. That seemed problematic at best, so at this point I was bothered and wanted someone else to explain to me why they were searching bags – especially hers.
After directing us to the front desk, the security person went into the back. I explained the situation to the clerk at the front desk, who said that it sounded strange, and then the manager on duty came out. We explained the situation and I asked why they would want to search my friend’s bag. She said that was definitely not their normal practice and apologized quietly for what happened. I was more shaken by it than Kira was at this point, and I still hadn’t heard an explanation that would adequately justify why her bag got searched and why she was treated so gruffly, other than a quiet apology and an assurance that the manager would talk to her superiors. I left my name, phone number and e-mail, and asked that they contact me with any questions, also mentioning that this incident would probably find its way to my blog, which I also included in my contact info. I haven’t heard back yet.
This is especially upsetting, as I was just about to book a suite at the Newbury for our upcoming 15th wedding anniversary next spring. If this is how they treat former and future guests, it’s not something I’m going to support.
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