Sorry, Eloise. No More Room Service.
by Winnie Hu, The New York Times
It is the perk that comes with expense accounts, the silver tray that wakes lovers in the morning, and the frequent indulgence of the superspy James Bond. Room service has become all these things, and more, since it grew in popularity with the privileged guests of the Waldorf-Astoria in the 1930s and soon emerged as a standard for luxury excursions, and a plot device for tales of suspense and whimsy.
Just ask Eloise, the 6-year-old scamp living it up in the Plaza Hotel, who routinely called for room service to bring her, exactly, one roast-beef bone, one raisin and seven spoons. And yet room service will soon be no more at one major New York City hotel. ...
© Robert Caplin, The New York Times