Cari amici,
I’ve been traveling lately, to five cities in two countries, and the cumulative effect of all those [insert your preferred short-term rental company’s name here] beds and bathrooms got me thinking. Over the years, many of the places I’ve stayed have failed to deliver comfort in one way or another. Others have been terrible, disastrous, appalling displays of host chintziness and menefrighismo. (Which means, if you don’t remember from a previous post, not giving a damn.)
But not all of them.
It was an apartment in Bath, England—clean, homey, outfitted with comfortable sofas and beds, fluffy towels, coffee and biscuits, cotton balls and toothbrushes—that broke the mold, convinced me guidance was needed. Clearly, this host didn’t get the memo. And I’m here to fix that.
Herewith, drawing on personal experiences in the U.S., Spain, England, and Italy, my five simple, easy-to-implement steps for hosts who want to guarantee an unpleasant stay for their guests.
Step 1: Create an uninviting first impression.
Exterior doors should be embellished with graffiti and/or bars and grates, or otherwise suggest a dangerous neighborhood. As for street numbers, include one in your communications, but neglect to mention that it’s virtual, theoretical, written absolutely nowhere near or on the door to said address. This will be sure to confuse the taxi driver your guests hired and will make them extra-glad they forked out half their trust fund to get from the airport to this apparent hellhole.
Fail to install an exterior light fixture, or if one’s already there, remember to swap out the lightbulb with a dead one. After all, where’s the sport in making the place easy to find, especially after a fun day (or two) of travel delays, changing time zones, and bad food? It’s always nice to add an element of surprise, too, so don’t mention the 75 steps from street level up to the apartment. Remember, you’re doing those sluggish American tourists a favor by forcing them to do cardio while hoisting suitcases the size of small cows. Unfortunately, the Europeans, most of whom are used to scampering around hilly streets, won’t bat an eye.
Step 2: Remember, ventilation is overrated.
Don’t mention or show in photos that the bedrooms have no windows. Again, surprises; I can’t emphasis this enough. Look at it this way, no windows means you’re sparing your guests a possible colpa d’aria while they’re sleeping, which they can only thank you for.
If photos of the living room reveal a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, don’t mention that they can’t be opened, not even by guests with serious MacGyver skills. That way, when the heating malfunctions, the room will zoom up to 25 degrees (that’s 77 for you Fahrenheit folks), effectively roasting the poor unsuspecting traveler/s sleeping on the sofa bed and forcing them, jammie-clad and exposed to your sketch neighborhood, to madly swing the front door in a desperate attempt to get some goddamn cool air in there.
If you’re considering providing a few fans to help with the poor ventilation, STOP THAT RIGHT NOW!
(N.B.: Speaking of sofa beds, choose one that has either an iron bar through the middle or large buttons that would make a bed of nails seem comfortable by comparison. Or both.)
Step 3: Be stingy.
There are so many ways to do this, and the choices can be overwhelming. The good news is you don’t have to choose! Here’s how to save some dough at your guests’ expense.
Skimp on towels. One smallish bath towel is more than adequate for a weeklong stay; after all, you also provided a hand towel. So what if your guests will want to do some hand laundry and will roll their semi-clean unmentionables in the bath towel to wick out the moisture, and that the lack of windows/ventilation means the then-saturated towel will still be wet in the morning. What do they think this place is, a hotel?
If you provided a washing machine (a convenience best avoided, tbh), for heaven’s sake don’t give your guests any means to dry their clothes, such as a drying rack. In fact, take miserliness to the next level and omit towel bars and hooks from the bathrooms. (Think of the savings!) Don’t forget to threaten your guests with images of the deadly fires that will inevitably result if they dare to drape their laundry on the radiators.
There are so many ways to make bathrooms uncomfortable, and eliminating towel bars and hooks is only the beginning. If the bathroom is small—what the hell, even if it’s palatial—install an 8-by-10-inch sink. In trying to gently sluice water onto their faces—because of course you didn’t provide wash cloths—your guests will bump their heads on the wall and splash water everywhere. And when they try to mop up the floor, they’ll curse the paper towel you so thoughtfully didn’t provide. Win-win!
Speaking of water on the floor, make sure the shower leaks. Ideally, the shower stall should be small enough that any unreasonable movement, such as turning around, will result in bumping the flow handle and either scalding or freezing your guests. Don’t provide a bathmat or step-out mat or whatever you want to call it. You gave them a hand towel, right? They can use that.
For older, preferably infirm travelers, it’s best if the shower or tub is skating-rink smooth. If they’re terrified of breaking a hip or getting concussed, maybe they’ll skip a shower or two and save you some money. It’s worth a shot. You could also opt for a too-small, not-on-demand-type of water heater so that whoever gets first dibs on the shower will use up all the hot water and the others won’t get to bathe. Most economical.
Last but not least, avoid any kind of shelving and cabinets. Who needs ’em? Guests can put their toiletries on the toilet lid, along with their clothes (since there’s nowhere to hang them). Make sure the toilet is the tankless kind so there’s no lid to use as a shelf. Unfortunately, there’s not much you can do about doorknobs unless you’ve opted for pocket doors.
Step 4: Beyond bathrooms: more ways to skimp
Another reason not to provide a bathmat, especially a white one, is your filthy floors. Eliminate the risk of your guests noticing that the once-white bathmat gradually, over their five-day stay, becomes a disgusting shade of brown. If you simply must give them one, opt for black, gray, or chocolate brown.
Kitchens offer lots of options for skimping: oven mitts, dish towels, a dish drainer, more than four forks and spoons, a working oven, cookware in various sizes—all completely unnecessary. We all know that frying two eggs in a pan the size of Wrigley Field can be, well, sporting.
If the stove burners have to be lit, avoid keeping matches in the house and absolutely DO NOT provide one of those igniter-thingies. (Fringe benefit: more exercise for your guests when they have to run out to buy matches! See also inconvenience, next.)
Step 5: Strive for inconvenience
Thought skimping was easy? Just wait until you explore inconvenience! One set of keys for a group of six, arriving late for the in-person check-in you insist on, requiring guests to vacuum or wipe down the shower—you get the drift.
Here’s a fun game: say you’re hosting three single women travelers, and you’ve got one double bed, one single bed, and a pull-out couch. Assume that two of the women will sleep together, thus eliminating the need to lay out bedding for the couch. Don’t put said bedding anywhere obvious, like in an armoire or closet. Then, when your guests message you to ask where it is, tell them it’s in a storage area off one of the bedrooms. Think of the fun they’ll have (plus, more exercise!) in crawling through a low-slung hole in the wall. Even better, they’ll have to drag the bedding out of there on their hands and knees, all the while questioning exactly when the carpeting was last vacuumed.
“Forget” to include a pillowcase with said bedding.
Umbrella stands, door mats, and coat racks are highly overrated and best avoided. Though their absence could cost you a bit in the long run due to ruined floors and, if provided, railings, the inconvenience factor makes it worthwhile, especially during monsoon season.
Under no circumstances, ever, should you hang curtains, light-blocking or otherwise, in a living area where there’s a sleeper sofa. (Bonus: this checks both the “stingy” and “inconvenient” boxes.) Take it to the next level with a shade-less skylight positioned directly overhead.
Here’s a really fun way to annoy your guests: tell them to recycle but offer zero information about how and what. You see, in Italy, and perhaps other countries, recycling is a complex art form requiring a steep learning curve; consequently Italian residents on the road are always asking themselves whether it’s okay to mix plastics and metals, and exactly what types of plastics can, in fact, be recycled. Withholding information causes them great stress, bordering on trauma. Go for it.
I know you think recycling requires separate bins, but you’re wrong. Think about it—they’re convenient and costly, both no-nos. One big can is fine. Oh, the laughs you’ll have, imagining your guests’ distress when they’re forced to toss plastic yogurt containers in with empty jars, cereal boxes, and banana peels! For added effect, just before check-out, explain that there are no recycling collection trucks due to your location’s limited access; therefore your guests must take their recyclables home or to a grocery store collection point several miles away.
That’s it! Finito! Easy-peasy! Now you too can be a short-term rental host of the skinflint variety. Or, I dunno, maybe not? I gotta say, a welcoming bottle of prosecco goes a long way.
Alla prossima,
Cheryl
© 2023 Cheryl A. Ossola
P.S. Tell me your travel accommodations horror stories in the comments!
P.P.S. Sorry, no books or poems this week.
Absolutely hilarious Cheryl! Hope all is well with you!
Here’s another one : provide knives that cannot slice ANYTHING; 2 pots, 5 frying pans, 7 lids that fit NONE of the pots or pans; 3 boxes of salt, a sugar bowl ALSO filled with salt (thank goodness I thought to taste it before I added it to my coffee!); no soap for washing (neither for dishes or for personal use). 🤦🏼♀️