Katy and Becca are planning to visit the Chelsea, the "grime-caked mecca" that harbored such reprobates as Dylan Thomas and Sid Vicious, and "suck the air from the vents." These young college-bound students have been working for the man and holding gypsy yard sales in order to raise the scratch necessary to bankroll their $300-a-night(!) "search for answers, questions and beauty," that they hope will lead to "exquisite enlightment."
Au Contraire, sadly deluded gamins. By your tone of sarcasm, I gather that you think this place is a joke. Let me be the first to assure you that the sorid reputation of our shady establishment is no laughing matter. There are people here, debouched perverts and drug addicts, who prowl our famous lobby on the lookout for fresh meat. If you don't watch it, you could easily be sucked into their diabolical web of depravity. (You know that movie "Hostel" popular, I'm told among your peers -- well, it was based on the Chelsea Hotel.) If you awake from you drug-induced stupor to find yourself chained to bed or in a brothel in Bangkok, don't say I didn't warn you.
Actually, Katy & Becca, I'm just kidding. The only thing scary about this place is its price. $300 a night! Yikes! Enjoy your stay. -- Ed Hamilton
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