Hey love, so you remember how Emma called me last summer, begging me to put her best mates up for a week while they tried to unwind by the sea? We live in that little seaside town near Brighton, you know the one with the quirky fishandchip shop. I felt awful turning her down, so I said yes, but I tried to be clear about the costs.
Im in the middle of peak season, I told her, so I cant just hand over a room for free, and I dont feel right charging your friends either.
Emma laughed it off. Dont worry, theyll pay. Money isnt an issue theyre just scared of dodgy landlords who take a deposit and then disappear or boot you out halfway through your stay.
I fell for it. If Id known how much this would end up costing me, Id have said no straight away. Still, I gave them a decent discount about half price for the room.
The day they arrived, instead of the promised family with a tenyearold boy, a teenage girl named Blythe turned up with them. No big deal, just another friend, but the threeperson room suddenly felt cramped for them.
We had a nice catchup, I whipped up a proper dinner, then after we ate I showed them a few of the towns historic spots. I wished them well and got back to my own work.
The next morning their son Tommy decided to have a bit of fun with his water pistol and managed to splash the TV. His parents were in the room but that didnt stop him. The couple apologised and said theyd cover the repair, but the set is still broken. I swapped it for a spare TV from the next room. What are you up to tonight? I asked.
Later that day the family burnt a kettle Blythe simply forgot to fill it with water. Then, trying to rearrange the tiny space, they broke two legs: one on a nightstand, the other on the dining table. They giggled about it. Hehe, weve got plenty of furniture, they said, taping the table leg with sticky tape and shoving something under the nightstand not much.
The climax was a raucous party that went on until two in the morning, with drunken shouting and music blaring. At eleven I asked them to turn the volume down and they replied, Were paying, we can have a bit of a laugh. It finally quieted after a second warning.
I didnt want to argue with a bunch of drunk people, so I waited until the next day. I sat them down and said straight out that their behaviour was unacceptable they werent the only guests here, and they needed to treat the appliances with care.
They shrugged. We paid good money, they said. I snapped, Maybe thank the friend who let you stay here, because otherwise you wouldnt be here at all!
After that, they behaved a bit more sensibly and the stuff stopped breaking. The friendship, however, was over. We stopped talking, but they still walked off with the little presents and souvenirs Id prepared for Emma and the group, and they even slipped two big bath towels and a fleece sheet out of the room.
Emma and I had been friends since secondary school, right up until she got married and moved to Manchester. She always described her mates as polite and wellmannered, the sort of people who could spend every summer with us if they were truly that nice.
In the end it turned out exactly as it did. Emma kept quiet for a while, but eventually she hinted that her friends hadnt enjoyed the stay. They kept complaining I was nagging them and ruining the mood, even though they paid a lot, she said.
Honestly, the money they paid didnt even cover a new TV, a kettle, a table, a nightstand, fresh bedding or towels. It left me with strained nerves, unhappy other guests, and a tarnished reputation next year the holidaymakers might just pick another spot.
I did learn a massive lesson, though. Next time Ill just be honest and say no straight away. Cheers.
