This is the second part in a series exploring the seedy world of by-the-hour sex hotels. We previously visited the Kew Motor Inn.
When my fellow reporter and I walked up to the Liberty Inn, I was practically in disbelief. I had passed the sordid hotel, set a on veritable island of sorts along 14th street and the West Side Highway, on a near daily basis during my runs along the Hudson River: How could I not have known -- for the past several years now -- that alongside the Meatpacking District's row of overpriced shops was an hourly hotel clearly designed for those looking to get laid?
I stifled a laugh with my fellow reporter Zach when we walked in -- it was pretty embarrassing to ask for the Romantic Interlude Suite with a colleague. Much like the other hotels we visited, the "front desk" was protected by a sheath of incredibly thick, probably bulletproof glass. As I handed the attendant my credit card to shell out $120 for three hours in a souped up room complete with Jacuzzi, he asked me for the "required" three dollars in cash.
Maybe to stick down a stripper's G-string? Who knows.
As Zach and I carefully tiptoed our way back to our assigned room, we passed some lovely vending machines, stocked with the essentials one would need for, well, a romantic interlude of sorts. I was initially hoping for a Diet Coke, but instead there were lube, condoms and batteries. When we reached the door, we turned our room key (which came fully equipped with a bottle opener) with trepidation -- and opened the door into a 1970s softcore porn set.
-- Rachel Jacoby, Senior Editor