We Weren’t Running a Brothel. Just a Nap Room

“Shut it down,” commanded an imposing figure in a trench coat. “This whole operation is shutting down.”

He was one of three burly enforcers in trench coats from the New York City Department of Buildings (aka the D.O.B.). These men freeze construction work, fine slumlords, and evict squatters for a living, often in the city’s most dangerous neighborhoods. On this day in 2004, they were shutting down my business venture: a cozy napping room inside the Empire State Building.

They were rudely waking up my customers, turning on lights, and generally banging about.

“Everybody up!” He yelled over the white noise.

MetroNaps was hard to find. It was on the 24th floor of the Empire State Building. To get there, one first had to know about it (there were no signs on the ground), go through airport-style security, and then find the correct elevator bank to reach us.

The nap room contained two rows of napping pods. The pods were white fiberglass chaise-lounge chairs each domed with a spherical hood. The walls, carpet, and ceiling were all dark grey. Those shiny spheres were lit by spotlights, creating the overall effect of a retro-future movie set. I was the CEO and also on that day the receptionist, charging people $14 for a 20-minute nap.

Someone at the D.O.B. read the New York Times article about us and deduced that the building we were operating in was not zoned for this kind of business. So they dispatched the muscle.

Relaxation was the only purpose of our business. But relaxation had been long outlawed in New York City. Under the banner of relaxation, too many health and wellness entrepreneurs had actually run brothels.

For MetroNaps to have legitimately operated, we would have had to obtained the dreaded and onerous P.C.E. (physical culture establishment) zoning designation. That required renovating and leasing the space for up to a year before we could operate while waiting on D.O.B. approvals. We also would have had to rezone half of the Empire State Building accordingly. We couldn’t afford to do either.

My business partner and I took a calculated risk. We figured getting fined for the violation — maybe even multiple violations — while appealing for an exemption would be cheaper and faster than navigating the P.C.E. requirement.

A few weeks later, my partner Christopher and I were in a tiny D.O.B. office in the Financial District with all five of the agency’s Borough Commissioners attending — two by phone and three in person. Christopher and I gave an impassioned presentation complete with drawings, a story of business-school dreams, a video from CNN, pictures of the space, and solemn promises that no nap would ever conclude with a happy ending.

We didn’t want an exemption from fines. What we really wanted was to enshrine napping permanently into New York City’s zoning categories.

We presented for thirty minutes. It was fun to narrate our journey and voice our hopes and fears, as well as share some of the ridiculous stories we had already collected. One of our customers would come every day not to nap, but to cry. Our first pod fabricator tried to extort us. The Empire State Building’s union was corrupt and always ripping us off. But through it all, napping was awesome and everyone needed to do it.

When we finally finished, there was a long, pensive silence.

“I like it.”

The grizzled voice on speakerphone belonged to maybe the most jaded borough commissioner: The Bronx. But in fact, they all liked it. They liked the style, they liked the presentation, they liked the idea of taking a nap, they liked us, they liked doing something new. These guys (and one gal) were actually super into it.

They then invited us to do something surprising: help write the standards the D.O.B. might require future nap-focused businesses to follow. We spent the next few weeks working with their office to create a new designation for napping — and felt especially clever because it seemed that anyone wanting to open a napping center would have to open a MetroNaps. We felt like Robber Barons — but for napping.

I learned a few lessons in this episode. First, sometimes one has no choice but to strategically break rules. That’s the only way rules change. Second, to seek change, it’s usually best to go straight to the top. You have to win those people over. The good news is that those in power are, ultimately, just people. They want to get behind a good story. They want to be supportive, and if they hold enough authority, they can be your most effective allies.