This should really be called My Blue Thoughts or My Impure Thoughts, but the Smithereens have this great song called Green Thoughts that's technically about envy and jealousy, so I think it applies in this case.
Of course, the fact that my guest crushes are beyond wildly inappropriate and completely unattainable makes these tales all the more entertaining.
Act One: My Big, Fat Greek Crush: one of my first airbnb reservations came from a couple: she lived south of the Mason-Dixon line, he lived in New England. They decided to literally meet halfway for a birthday/tryst/lovefest in Pittsburgh. The guy, let's call him Nick, made the reservation and was the first to arrive early in the afternoon.
|Ah, Shucks, Julie, I ain't nothin special!|
OK, and let's make this matter worse: he was nice. Super nice. And funny. Wickedly funny. His first suggestion while we wait for his girlfriend to arrive? Let's go get a beer! Sure, I say, and we saunter up to Brillobox for a lovely cold one.
In the 2 or 3 hours we spent together, I almost forgot about the reason for his visit (the girlfriend), I was having such a good time. He was an artist, he had an interesting job, and incredible taste in music. Score!
Then the girlfriend appeared and of course she was young (15 years his junior), drop-dead gorgeous, with a body like a dancer. I tried really hard to hate her, but she was as interesting and wonderful as he was. DAMMIT! DAMMIT!! DAMMIT!!!
They stayed with me two times after that, and I still have the little, folksy notes they left for me. "Thank you kindly for opening your home to us," wrote the Greek God. "It was so sweet of you to remember my favorite kind of yogurt-thank you so much!" wrote the GF.
The last time I saw them was over three years ago. I think they broke up, or maybe that's wishful thinking on my part. But no more trysts at the old B&B, although I do hear from the Greek God from time to time...
Act II: He ain't no Brat(man): So this was a reservation not unlike any other: the guy makes the reservation, mentioning that his fiancee had an interview at Children's Hospital and they wanted something close to the hospital and in a central location so they could explore the city while they were here.
The guy, let's call him Ben, made the reservation through one of my booking agents, where registrants create profiles of themselves. In this case, Ben included a picture of himself with aforementioned fiancee, and they looked like any normal, happy couple.
Like the Greek God and his GF in Act One, Ben and his fiancee arrived separately and Ben arrived first. I think that gobsmacked is the best word I can use, because I have never, ever met someone more charismatic. And Hello? He was a DEAD RINGER for Benjamin Bratt, albeit from the Law & Order
|Julie, I only have eyes for you--until my fiancee arrives!|
And the fiancee? She was nice. Super smart. Gorgeous, in that all-American, J. Crew kind of way. The kind of girl that would be easy to hate, except that she was super nice. Figures.
Ben seemed amused by my slacked-jawness, and I never heard from them again. She could have gotten that job at Children's and I could run into them at the Wild Card. Or J. Crew, if Pittsburgh had a J. Crew.
Act III: You say Cougar, I say "more experienced": I have the opportunity to host a lot of artists, and a painter contacted me from the deep south about staying with me--she had an exhibit of her work not far from Pittsburgh. She said that she would be traveling with her son, and that they'd bring a sleeping bag for him. "He camps a lot, he's used to sleeping on the ground," was her response when I offered to set up a second bed for him.
Because she had asked me if the B&B was "kid friendly" and mentioned camping, I envisioned some middle schooler. Please try to picture my face when this walked through my door:
|Um, Julie, who's James Dean?|
Yes, it was her (barely) adult son, looking all "Rebel without a Cause"-like in his hipster hair and skinny jeans.
Because of their schedule, I didn't see too much of him. And when I did see them, yes, I was a little slack jawed. Two days later, they're packing up their stuff and heading down the road in their Mini Cooper.