PRAYER BNB

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (05-02-24)

 

     After you come to the conclusion that you need to downsize your life, the next logical step is to buy a smaller place to live, which is what we did. And now we have downsized into two houses: mission accomplished! I think we can have the same amount of stuff in the smaller house, if each item was a third of the size that it is now. I can see I'm going to be good at this.

     The place is not far from the beach, so my idea is to rent it out as an Airbnb when we're not there. The place needs a little work. The first thing we did is take down all the signs that were over the doorways to each room. Over the bedroom was a sign that said "Romance," and I am not kidding about this. I guess if you reached that point in your marriage when you wondered where all the romance had gone, you could just follow the signs. You can expect a little more subtlety from me with the signs, like maybe "Merge," or "Yield," or "Slow Men at Work."

     I'm now a home improvement subcontractor. I'm also the contractor, and I'm not thrilled with my work. I may have to say something, but I don't want to come down to hard, because it's hard to get good help these days, and I'd hate for me not to even show up. 

     Things got off to a rocky start. I spent all day fixing up some furniture and I got glue all over my fingers, and when the sun went down I realized the electricity wasn't turned on yet. I forgot to charge my phone, so I had to drive around with it plugged into my car charger, but since I'm unfamiliar with the area I got lost. I have a GPS on my phone, but since I had glue all over my fingers it wouldn't read my security-activated fingerprint. I considered committing a minor felony so that I could get a more accurate fingerprint. That's when I realized I needed a nap.

     I read that you shouldn't furnish an Airbnb with a kitschy or antique look. Instead of Louis XV furniture, modernize the look with a Louis XVI furniture. All we could really afford was the Louis CK look. Don't fall victim to common decorating mistakes, like hanging your wall art too high, unless it's ugly, then it should be hung from the highest yardarm. Any nudes should be tasteful and well hung.

     I read somewhere that people want to feel like they're staying in a hotel. We found a housekeeper that even put a paper band around the toilet seat and made a little origami flower out of the toilet paper. I realized I had to go to the bathroom, and the housekeeper had already left, so I had to scotch tape the toilet seat band back together, and I made a toilet paper flower that looks like a snapping turtle.

     I guess I'm also technically a businessman now, and I need to pay attention to things that were none of my business before. I was thinking about joining the small businessmen's association, but at six-foot two I'm sure I would not qualify, unless they set a pretty high bar for admission.

     I'll be watching every penny in order to make ends meet. The trick with running your own Airbnb is to advertise a lot of great activities, and then make them almost impossible to actually do, so that it's their own idea to have a lousy time. Save money wherever you can. I'll install one of those motion-detector faucets, so you can't just sit there and wash your hands every time they get dirty. Water doesn't grow on trees, you know, at least I don't think it does. The one in the restroom where I work is perfect, because it only detects the motion of me walking away from it. Nothing will get it to flow. I've tried running in place, spelling the words "I hate you" in semaphore and performing the "Heartland" song from Riverdance. Motion denied. I also tried the paper towel dispenser, which is a motion detector too. I shook my hands underneath it, and the faucet finally went on.

     Don't worry, we'll provide complimentary soap. Complimentary because of the compliments you'll receive after using it. "Wow, what is that smell?" "That's the boutique soap I used at the Airbnb I stayed at. It's 'tree bark and asparagus,' with hints of bacon, motor oil and despair. I should have taken some home with me, because we have raccoons." 

     During your stay I will act as the concierge, if you'll pardon my French. Feel free to ask me anything. At the end of our conversation, I will say, confusingly, "There is nothing more I can do for you, no?" Depending on what your answer is, in either case I will do nothing more for you.
     It all sounds like great fun, especially if you're hard of hearing. See you at the shore!