Finding the ways to fill the time
T minus 2 hours.
At what point can you be satisfied that paying strangers won’t find fault with your house?
Is it akin to the level required for a picky in-law, dissatisfied with your involvement in her family? Are these people going to be looking for things to complain about?
Our first guests, booked through Airbnb‘s paid couch-surfing system, are a young Calinfornian couple who have sent polite, friendly emails so far. The signs are good that they won’t be whipping out the white gloves as they enter to door.
Still… I have vacuumed the house every day for the past week. Wiped down the kitchen and bathroom after every use. The obvious benefits of continued Airbnb patronage is a sparkling house that an OCD sufferer could relax in, however, this is a house still lived in, not a hotel room that can be cleaned and left pristine until the guests arrive.
The list of things to check before arrival is long – are there enough plates, cups, knives, forks, beds linens, towels for an extra two people? Insulated linings for the windows (it’s really cold here!), some fruit for their breakfast. With all the extra purchases to prepare, we might not break even until after the next lot of guests come.
With something like a siege mentality, we piled our most expensive equipment into our bedroom. I hate to think of our guests as being potential thieves, especially as they have two positive reviews to their names. I know the suspicion will evaporate during our first hellos, but until then, paranoia reigns.
Then, my best friend asked, “Have you clearly written down a ‘no sex’ rule?”
I laughed it off. Our house has no true walls between rooms – only thin sliding doors. How could you get in the mood knowing that the owners on the other side of the divide can hear the give-away, furtive noises you’re trying to hide?
Was that a mistake to assume though?
T minus 40 minutes.
…I bet they will be great.