Cosmopolitan Terrace Studio : The VT Review 2011
Fool Me Twice...
For those who haven't been following along, I've had some lousy luck when dealing with the Cosmopolitan's hotel operations department. I've covered the opening night fiasco and hotel review in great detail, the second stay check in fiasco as well. Due to this, I didn't have the strength to dive in and write up the hotel review attached to the second stay. Frankly, I'm hoping that publishing this review will be the last time I have to look at the inside of one of Cosmopolitan's standard issue (City Room, Terrace Studio, Terrace 1BR and Wraparound Terrace Suites) hotel offerings, ever. It's not that I don't like the Cosmopolitan - I do - but their service level screw ups coupled with the inane, ego driven interior designs of smarmy hair helmeteer David Rockwell contain too much idiocy for my fragile constitution to bear.
Since the time of our visit, Cosmopolitan has replaced the people responsible for their monumental hotel disasters with new people. I guess they're doing a better job as the number of Cosmo complaints being filed by VT readers has decreased. Despite one of their friendly employees emailing me stating "third time is a charm" my philosophy regarding Cosmopolitan is certifiably Won't Get Fooled Again. Life is too short and Vegas vacations are too few (and expensive) to waste them on a hotel that makes you wish you stayed home.
But I'm not here to pound a dead horse, but being that this is our second stay at Cosmopolitan and only two months removed from the first, many of the criticisms and praises from the previous visit (linked above) apply as well.
One of the biggest issues I have with Cosmopolitan's hotel - other than ghastly hotel operations and questionable housekeeping - is the supreme design disconnect between the lushly appointed casino floor, lobby and bars (excluding the Chandelier, a good idea that looks 80% finished in person) and the hotel towers. Here's the lobby elevator landing, in all its sexy, albeit blurry, glory.
When you step off, you are greeted by one of the most dowdy hotel elevator vestibules ever designed. My original description of it being a "a pickle jar" is still appropriate. Fugly.
Turning the corner and heading towards the room doesn't help.
Room 1911. *bleepbleep*