Jia J.
Yelp
To start, a few statements in defense of this pool:
If it's too humid for you in the locker rooms in the summer - it's a locker room. In a pool facility. In the summer. You're going to spend the next hour or more in the water anyway, then go back outside where it's humid, then go down to the subway platform where it's as hot as Gerard Butler's crotch, then surface in some other place for more abuse. So shut the hell up and get in the shower.
If it's too cold for you in the winter - welcome to New England/NY. Besides, a cold shower makes for easier adjustment to the temperature of a pool that's cool enough for actual lap swimming.
If the conditions are dirty, quit blaming the staff. They didn't make the filth - the pool users did, and that includes those who obliviously left the place in greater disrepair since it wasn't chic enough to merit their respect.
If your items were stolen - did you bring a lock, or do that "Williamsburg is for lovers" bullshit and stuff all your crap in a wide open locker?
Moving on, maybe I was lucky, but when I walked in here today, I did not encounter a rude staff. Anyone generalizing that a bad attitude usually accompanies NYC pool staff should acquaint themselves with more of the city's 54 swimming facilities before finalizing their statements.
Also, they do take credit card. It's cash they don't accept. The annual fee for ALL of NYC's indoor pools and exercise facilities has indeed risen to $150, but they also sell 6-month admissions for $75, so one loses nothing by committing to a shorter period.
They do not process payment without a physical credit card. They do not offer one-day trials or one-day admissions. All this was a pain in my ass, but I knew I was the idiot with a memorized credit card trying to buy my way in at 7 p.m. on a weeknight.
The three helpful men at the desk told me I'd have to wait 30 minutes for a guy to return from his dinner break before registering. I took sat at a wooden bench in somewhat of a huff, only to have one of the guys soften his stance and let me sign a little book, flash my ID, and go in. He told me I could come out and do the registration later rather than just sitting there.
Let's rewind to the CHARACTER oozing from this brick building whether you know anything about its history or not. Emerging from the Bedford stop on the L - that portal of hipsters trolling to and from the city - I did the six block dash towards Metropolitan Avenue. Temptations were everywhere; bodegas, taco carts, Salvation Army, strains of Fleetwood Mac from a bar. Luckily, it was raining, I didn't have money, and I was on a mission.
As I ascended the steps, a waft of pool steam knocked me back in time through the history of my own life of swimming and through history itself. Built in 1922 as a legit bath house (not where you go to relax in saunas, but where you go to literally take a bath) and opened in 1935 for recreational purposes, the pool was a feat of architecture at the time: http://www.nycgovparks.org/parks/B085/highlights/188
One step through the door, and the pool was RIGHT THERE behind the front desk, behind glass. I could see the huge skylight ceiling and people going back and forth in the 75' lanes (36 round trips = 1 mile).
The locker room was small, but well spaced and not filthy. The lockers were midsized, and held one large umbrella, my shoes, and my L.L. Bean backpack from the junior high days. True, a dripping wet hipster chick with an unlocked locker full of crap soon took over my area, but this happens in every pool facility in the world, both public and private.
Proceeded to an open area where high showerheads with low water pressure dispersed the desired temperature of spray from an adjustable dial. It had no automatic shut off function, so right away that was an upgrade from my darling outdoor pools of summer.
When I plunged into the fast lane, I saw that the entire tank was lined in brick shaped white tiles. It was simply amazing. And, after thrashing around all summer in a gigantic pool with no rules and CURRENTS, this pool appeared to me as what swimmers call a "fast" - I could literally feel the 7 feet of water in the deep end buoying me upwards and across the lane.
Yes, it was crowded-like every fucking other place in the metropolis. I was just a bit slow for the showboaters in my lane but decidedly too fast for other lanes. So, I worked to keep up, and shrugged it off when the prick behind me touched my feet three times before finally (and barely) passing me, etc, etc.
Later, the staff let me go when I blubbered that I wanted to come back with a different credit card because I'd get miles on it.
Deepthroating a German chocolate bar on the train because I deserved it, I basked in that sensation of half quease and half exhilaration that comes from pushing yourself just the right amount past The Usual.
Conclusion: this pool is FINE, maybe even great.