The McKittrick Hotel in Manhattan was completed in 1939, but this luxury hotel was condemned and never opened… until now when the performance of Sleep No More checked in.
“Here is your room key,” the usher said to my wife and me. She handed us a playing card. Mine was a two, my wife’s was a three. “This way, sir.”
But she didn’t guide us on the walk through the labyrinthine darkness. It felt like a snaking darkroom. I guided my wife by dragging a hand along the felt wall. It led to a bar or the 1930s, a resurrection of a decadent hotel bar never opened or a portal back to a gothic speakeasy.