Snack Basket

As quasi-old-hand Airbnb hosts, Sam and I have some questions for our most recent guest. Why didn’t you lock the door when you left? What is that strange pink stain on the bed, impervious to bleach and elbow grease? Where are our queen Ikea comforter and two out of six of our teaspoons?

People stay at our house most often to visit their kids at one of the four pricey boarding schools nearby. Their focus is on making themselves at home in the space they’ve paid for, and that’s fair. I don’t mind readying frantically and cleaning up afterwards. But how about you don’t leave a scrambled egg-caked frying pan festering in the sink? Maybe you had a plane to catch, but the I don’t give a shit message stung.

I thought about a solution for folks who flout baseline consideration and our very simple check-out instructions. What if I proactively make them beholden, so they’ll be tortured with guilt if they steal stuff or leave the place a mess? I’m thinking maybe a cheery welcome basket of snacks and a bottle of wine. I want our home to serve as both a place to stay and a challenge to any occupier with the devil-may-care attitude of a marauding raccoon.

This is my next strategy, and I hope it works, but this whole thing has me worried that Airbnb, as a sustainable business model, is the polar opposite of gambling casinos, where the house always wins.