Thursday, December 3, 2015
I have trust issues about guest rooms
I have trust issues about sleeping over other people's houses.
Their bed is always rock hard and uncomfortable and it's always topped with a mattress encased in stiff plastic to protect it from whoever must regularly sleep (and pee) there. The sheets are always cheap and shitty and look like last Thanksgiving's rumpled tablecloth. There's never any bedside table or anything to put a glass of water on. You have to settle for the empty cardboard sock insert on the floor.
People are always writing in to the Carolyn Hax advice column, "WHYYY won't my guest sleep over? They INSIST on staying in a hotel and I just can't understand!"
Well, the above happened to your guest at some point in their life. That's why!
When your guest visits, they will be tired and worn and likely rediscover they have a cat allergy (no, it's not enough to vacuum!). They'll be eager for a change of clothes and some down time. The room may be proffered but amenities such as surfaces, tissues and privacy will be defunct and this will not go unnoticed by your guest.
They will have no choice but to snag a roll of toilet paper from the bathroom (but it's the extra cheap, thin kind, AND there'll barely be enough of it for a proper nose-blowing and no place to properly throw it away so they must stuff snot rags back into their luggage).
Since there's no night table, there's no lamp with which to read. The guest must make do with the interrogation bulb swinging from the ceiling.
Turning off this light when ready to sleep will become a great arctic adventure since hosts always turn off the heat ("we sleep better!"). There is no choice but for the guest to climb out of bed into the freezing air, turn off the light and navigate back through the inky blackness while trying to avoid your moving boxes and children's toys.
This next fact is inexplicable but true: somehow hosts like to crack open their bedroom door at night. Privacy is never a concern, nor is the idea of engendering morbid embarrassment in the guest when they need to use the facilities at 2 and 4am.
They'll worry about waking everyone in the house up, and rightly so, because they will.
And boy, will they will hear about it in the morning.
"Did you sleep through the night?" the host will sweetly ask while pouring coffee.
"Yes," they'll lie, in order not to hurt anyone's feelings. "Everything is great!"
"I think I heard you up," they'll add. "Were you feeling okay?
Of COURSE you heard them up. The bedroom door was wide open.
The guest may feel compelled to explain the scintillating details of their intestinal health. One could only hope that the response would serve as proper punishment, benefiting future guests.
Later that night, instead of counting sheep, the guest will count the number of bad decisions they've made in life which led to this singular point, in your guest room.
THAT, my friends, is how hotel memberships are born!