When You Stay At That Cheap Hotel With A Weird Name: COTD

One of the reasons The Autopian works so well is that, collectively, we’re a thrifty bunch. Our idea of a flight upgrade is an extra bag of pretzels and the entire can of Coke. We’re not staying at hotels with restaurants run by star chefs. Honestly, sometimes we’ve stayed in digs with floors that weren’t level and had copies of the same photo hanging on the wall in each room.

All that is to set up the Tales From The Slack Matt wrote about the hotel that David got for our leadership team’s stay in Las Vegas, a deeply weird place called, of all things, Ellis Island.

Spacer

Naturally, this was a prime opportunity for some fun with the immigrating-to-America-name-change trope, and Dodsworth gets a belated COTD win:

Welcome to Ellis Island. Name?
Matt Hardigree.
That’s too hard. You’re Matt Hardy. Next?
David Tracy.
Dave Trace. Next?
Jason Torchinsky.
Jesus Christ! Are you kidding me?
Are you going to call me Jesus Christ?
No, Jay Torch. Don’t be a wise guy. Next?
Mercedes Streeter. I will punch you in the throat.
Welcome Ms. Streeter. Here’s $50,000 and a badge. Keep an eye on your friends, OK? Next?
Adrian Clarke.
What? Do you speak English?
Adrian Clarke, you knob!
Whoa! Calm down, Andy Clarkson. Next?

Meanwhile, Boulevard_Yachtsman noted Jason’s exuberance for a no-charge frill that is, shall we say, spicier than even the mightiest shake of Tabasco into the scrambled eggs of Ellis Island’s continental breakfast:

I can’t quit lololing at Torch’s only contribution to the conversation, a 6:17am “Hell Yeah!” in regards to unrestricted porn channels.

More, from Ranwhenparked:

I would assume the furniture came from the same place any sketchy motel gets their new furniture for renovations: from a better hotel auctioning off its old furniture before its own renovation or demolition.

The Bishop wrote about how automakers used to give you a free mixtape when you bought the better stereo option for your car, and readers reminded me of a way I was bad as a kid: Columbia House and other companies used to promote music subscriptions that would send you a selection of casettes or CDs for practically nothing on the promise you would pay full price for a certain number of tapes or discs over the next 12 months, but they never really made you prove you were even a real person. Rob Stercraw:

I also think Columbia House may still have a hit contract out on me.

10001010:

I remember checking those boxes and taping a penny to that page.

Mya Byrne:

Omg I had collection letters from them for literal years.

Frank Wrench:

As “Bill Melater” I was one of their best customers.

Have a great evening, everyone!