Send in the Clowns
Don't Bother, They're Me
First, an update on my last post about doing things that scare you. I had a great time at the Erma Bombeck conference, but unfortunately the stand-up show was set before I could jump in so I didn’t get on stage. I’ll do my tight two about North Dakota next time. And, I survived adult summer camp! I’m currently writing the article about it, and will share as soon as it’s published. But I now have camp friends!
I’ve been distracting myself lately with travel planning because my husband Chris and I are going to Europe next month. I’m really excited to explore the sites, eat different food, and not see anyone in a pro Second Amendment t-shirt for eleven whole days. What a treat that’ll be.
We’re going to one country we’ve briefly visited before, and two countries that are new to us. I like to put together a loose itinerary in advance so we don’t miss the good stuff, and I’ve asked friends and family what they recommend. I’ve also scoured the gazillion travel recommendations found on the internet. Did you know that in 2026, everyone is a travel expert? When I visited France for the first time in the mid 90’s, I had to check a travel guidebook out of the library and take notes like une femme stupid, but now you can just follow @TravelJunkeeHaleyyy29 and she and her 2” long fingernails will show you “the secret Eiffel Tower that not enough people are talking about.” Influencers are always discovering something. They’re like modern day Magellans only instead of a ship they have TikTok accounts and a leggings collection. But I do hope Haleyyy29 visits Rome soon and posts “tucked away in a corner of the city is the hidden Colosseum, use code GLADIATE to get 10% off ticket price.”
My parents just went on a guided tour of Europe for three weeks where they traveled from country to country with the same group of people on a bus. They’ve been on a lot of trips like this since they retired almost 30 years ago so not much is new to them anymore. “It was okay,” my dad said about this most recent trip. “I don’t ever need to see another cathedral as long as I live. But the truffle hunting in France was fun because there was a dog.”
Having a guide like they did doesn’t always mean you’re going to see the best a country has to offer, however. I realized that a few years ago when we were driving from Austin to visit my parents in Northern Nevada. We weren’t on the Loneliest Road in America, which is also in Nevada, but on the second loneliest road, Las Vegas to Reno. One of the only attractions on this drive is the Alien Cathouse brothel. It’s attached to a convenience store so whenever we stopped for snacks we’d have to make sure the kids went inside the right entrance. We’d also have to explain to them that the types of cats inside this cathouse were not ones we wanted them to meet. EVER. But I will say that the Alien Brothel is a nice blend of Nevada’s three biggest highlights: legal prostitution, Area 51, and rolling the dice with your health.
The halfway point of that endless seven-hour drive we’ve taken many times is Tonopah, a historic silver mining town that’s seen better days. It was quite the party in 1900 but now not so much. Nary a saloon to be found. There’s truly no reason for anyone to spend time there, much less be a tourist because they only have a few hotels in town and one of them is something you’d see on one of the more terrifying episodes of Fantasy Island.
We’ve driven by this fascinating and creepy motel many, many times. One year I finally got up the courage to actually go inside this house of nightmares, conveniently adjacent to a graveyard, while my husband and kids waited in the car. “Come with me,” I pleaded. “Just for a minute.”
“No way in hell,” Chris said, keeping the Volvo idling in case I didn’t come back out and he needed to flee to safety. “But say hi to that psychopath Bozo for me.”
The woman working in the lobby that day was really nice when I asked her to take a photo of me as proof that I was at “the terrifying clown hotel that not enough people are talking about” but then she crisply instructed me to “hold Bobo’s hand, hold it!” so now we know why I sometimes wake up in a cold sweat and hear a circus calliope slowly playing “Baby Elephant Walk” while children weep in the background. Yep. I stepped right into that Edgar Allan Poe short story.
Once we got to my parents house and told them about my big adventure, my dad immediately pulled the owner’s business card out of his wallet and handed it to me. “Call him up and get a free room on your way back home,” he suggested. I did not. That’s one hotel comp I don’t need.
So, all of that said, you’ll know why we were shocked one freezing December when we rolled into Tonopah during a snowstorm, found the Golden Arches of their one McDonalds through the haze, and pulled into the parking lot, only to see two shiny tour buses by the front door. We walked inside and found that the place was filled with a large group of middle-aged tourists from Japan. (Confirmed by asking one of them where they were from when waiting in line in the ladies room.) Why were they there? I puzzled. Were they scared of taking a one-hour flight instead of driving over a treacherous mountain pass in a blizzard? Exactly how bad was their tour guide? Was their itinerary just visiting abandoned mine shafts and well, more abandoned mine shafts because that’s all there is to do around there? Or was this a bamboozle? The Donner Party expedition was also a bamboozle, but unfortunately they didn’t find a McDonalds when they got lost so they had to well, you know. Wait, was the tour group under a CIRCUS CURSE?
I’ve wondered about this way too many times over the years. It just makes no sense to me how they ended up there. We never saw another tour group at the Tonopah McDonalds, but mostly because that particular franchise location was shut down after the owners were arrested for dealing meth alongside the Big Macs. I hope their slogan was I’m Lovin’ Tweakin’ It.
But while the answer is probably a simple one that I could maybe research a little to find, I don’t think I will. It’s far more fun to come up with my own theories. And hope that maybe we’ll find a few oddities of our own on our future travels. Except clowns.
Thanks for reading!
—Wendi
OTHER THINGS!
If you’re in New York City, or are able to livestream, I have a show this Sunday, April 26th! I’ll read some of my satire, and so will six other hilarious writers, and I’ll also do a Q&A about my book. Tickets for in-person and livestream can be bought here.
My friends Johanna Gohmann and Emily Flake have a funny new book out. It’s the perfect gift for young parents. Buy a bunch!
Circus Curses! Let's write that soon!
I WANT TO GO TO THE CLOWN HOTEL