Hello friends, from yet another “exotic” location for soccer. Key West? No. Palm Springs? No. Greetings from Atlantic City, New Jersey. Home of a dispensary on every other block. It’s like helicopters hover over this city and spray a consistent scent of weed, 24/7. But I digress.
My son’s team made it to the finals which is pretty cool and an 8-hour drive from central Ohio. I had never been to Atlantic City so full disclosure, happy to mark this location off my list.
Because this event required us to book at a hotel they had contracted, I believe hotel options were limited, thus the Tropicana Hotel. Now I’m sure this was an amazing hotel in 1984 when folks skated up and down the boardwalk before landing in a disco. Perhaps they did a line before rocking out to WHAM.
It’s 2025 and this place is a shit hole. Sorry, there is no other way to describe it and fortunately not being a discerned critic, I can give it to you straight. And not only is it a shit hole but over-priced. What makes me even more annoyed are the logistics. Let me explain.
The Logistics of Finding Your Room at The Tropicana Hotel
I want you to picture the largest mall you’ve ever been to; perhaps it’s multi-level. You park at one end, walk in and find the “YOU ARE HERE” dot on the map, only to discover you need to return a shirt at the farthest end of the mall and it’s possibly on a different level. That is what it’s like to park and go to your room at the Tropicana Hotel.
We parked on level 2 of the parking garage, took an elevator to the main lobby. Then took an escalator to the casino level. We walked through a small mall area of about 30-40 shops to the casino area. We continued to walk through the casino (cigarette smell was everywhere) to find the North tower elevator, hopped on it, got off on level 16 and walked to our room. This is the only self-parking garage and the only way to our room.
Checking In at the Tropicana Hotel
Despite wanting to do my sandwich trick, I opted not to because the suites only had a sofa bed and a king-size bed. My 16-year-old refuses to sleep in the same bed as me and sleeping on a sofa bed is like sleeping on a bed of nails if the hotel is more than a year old. Ok fine. So like McDonalds, you could check in at a Kiosk or wait in a line to talk to a human. I opted for human line. I was trying to get into the Havana towers, which are much closer to the parking garage, but the lady explained to me they were sold out and moving everyone to the North tower.
“But don’t worry,” she whispered to me conspiratorially, “you’re in the upgraded one, thank goodness.”
She had me at upgrade and suddenly my mind was at ease.
My Tropicana Hotel Room
My room was not upgraded in any sense.
Maybe if I were a POW and they moved me to a different cell, one could argue this was an upgrade.
I’m sure this room was great 25 years ago, the sleek lines, the abstract art, the sterile everything. The first thing I noticed was the locks. I can’t remember last time I saw a chain lock. What about you?
The room was very basic. Two queen beds, a desk, tiny refrigerator, no microwave, a closet, and a safe. And come to think about it, in my 48 years of existence, this is the first hotel that doesn’t have a bible. Not that I’d pick it up and read it, I’m just sayin’.
The only communication you have in the entire room is a table tent that thanks you for not smoking. No room service menu, no magazine on all the exciting things this shit hole has to offer. I will say, I was impressed we actually had our room cleaned one time while there. I feel like 99% of hotels, after COVID, have used the excuse to not clean a room.
White House Subs
This pic doesn’t do it justice b/c I ate half of it already.
Here is the bright spot of our stay, White House Subs. Oh my gosh, they were delish! We actually found this nugget while following 2 stoners attempting to smoke a blunt while the rain was coming down in their tricycle like Batmobile. Anyway, after C’s game we went to White House Subs. After placing our order, C and I took time to look at the black and white pics on the wall. Everyone had visited from Elvis Presley to Ellen DeGeneres to Donald Trump to the Beatles! It was so old school. They wrapped your sub in several layers of paper and it made it all that more authentic. Given inflation, I was pleased to learn that 2 12″ subs only came to around $23. They are like Five Guys before Obama made them famous. I highly recommend them.
What I Did Like About the Tropicana
Despite being hit on by an old Russian, telling me my skin was beautiful, I did find a ridiculously good taco place where I sat outside and watched bumbs beg for money while families strolled up and down the boardwalk. The tacos had radishes on them which I was hesitant about but was so fucking good.
I also lost around $50 on slots/video poker. I am NOT a high roller in any sense. I sought out the penny and quarter machines and too intimidated by the actual poker tables, found the video poker. I’m not an expert but I feel like the machines of Atlantic City are much more rigged than cruise ships. Just an observation.
Final Tropicana Note
Anyway, if you don’t mind the constant smell of weed, the 25-year-old rooms and the ridiculous cost of everything, this place is for you. I have absolutely no desire to ever return to this locale of America, and will die a happy woman if I never, ever see it again.
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