I sat her down and explained that I couldn’t sustain these shenanigans another year. I implied that it was putting some restrictions on my own freedom. She came up with a compromise, whereby she would stay at my place for two nights and someone else’s for two nights. I was too nice back then, and I said okay. But I’m strong enough now that I wouldn’t welcome an open-ended stay anymore. My privacy is too important to me.
I’ve learned to keep my big mouth shut when someone says, “I’m coming to town for the weekend and looking for a place to stay!” or “I’d love to visit New York, but I can’t afford a hotel!” Now I stay quiet or say something along the lines of, “Oh, too bad! Guess you’ll have to stay home and save up!”
My mother’s retirement place has separate guest rooms with baths. When I’m visiting, she always says, “Would you like to stay in one of the guest rooms rather than in my apartment?” I happen to know she’s looking for affirmation that I would rather room with her. So I say, “Of course I’d rather stay with you, Mother,” when in fact the thought of getting up and having coffee alone in the morning before the day of family time starts is pretty enticing.
I know a lot of people go through this same thing with their families, where every question is loaded. The appropriate answer to every question is: “What do you mean by that?” Everything has a subtext.
To be a good houseguest, you should be as independent as possible. You should buy groceries or take your hosts out for dinner. Pick up after yourself. Pretend to have a good time even if you’re not. Say, “I’d like to make a dinner reservation tonight. What’s your favorite restaurant?” Try not to break anything. Be quiet.
I read something interesting in
The only place I was ever a regular guest was in Hong Kong, with Suzy Moser and Chris Berrisford. Suzy and I were doing some work together for Parsons, so it was actually more convenient for her to have me close by. The house was a huge penthouse with wings, so we almost never crossed paths. I would go twice a year for two nights. I always brought Suzy and Chris a gift and took them out for dinner. I believe we all looked forward to the visits. But it’s something else if the hosts don’t have a mansion and the guests don’t limit stays to two days.
I can hear people saying, “But what if I’m on a budget?”
Then don’t go!
I was talking about this book with my family and mentioned to my niece that she should show the book to her friend, who has done some pretty appalling things, in my opinion. My niece grew hysterical, literally, with the thought that her friend might be in the book.
Finally, I said, “If you think
But I have the same hyperniceness Wallace has. When I lived in a studio in D.C., I would give my guests the foldout couch I usually slept on and I would sleep on the floor in the sleeping bag I kept in the closet. I didn’t want my guest to be uncomfortable. If I’m going to be a host, I’m going to be a good host. And my new mantra is: If I can’t handle it, I will just say so.
A friend from out of town e-mailed me recently and said he wanted to see my new apartment. I knew he was fishing for a place to stay, and after the initial flush of panic passed, I realized that I would actually like to see him and that I should invite him to stay. After all, I can’t continue the rest of my life in fear of houseguests. I have to get myself unstuck.
Maybe the moral is that if you’re the traveler and you don’t have the financial resources to take care of yourself and to honor the host, then don’t make the trip. But if you’re the potential host, you should be honest about what you can and can’t do, and then be as hospitable as possible—and no more.
Use Technology;
Don’t Let It Use You
RECENTLY AT THE GROCERY store, the woman behind me had a mere carton of juice, and I had a whole cart full of items, so I said, “Please, go in front of me.”
Did she even acknowledge this? She did not. Clearly she wasn’t deaf, because she did, indeed, walk in front of me. I was tempted to take back my offer.
A woman sitting next to me on an airplane asked for the in-flight magazine. I handed it over with a smile. She didn’t even look up or say anything at all. I was sorry I’d given it to her.
There should be a lot more thank-yous. I get irked every day when I hold the door for people and they don’t say thank you.
And I’m starting to think that a lot of times it has to do with people being so in their own worlds. You see people walking through the world staring at their BlackBerries or iPhones. Doors are opening for them. Change is being made. People are making way. But they don’t acknowledge it, because they’re on that
On several flights I’ve been on, the flight attendants have reached a point of exasperation, saying, “We can’t leave until everything with an on/off button is turned off!” People aren’t even processing that because they’re so distracted by their gadgets. Or they’re thinking, “My BlackBerry isn’t going to take this plane down.”
How important could the messages be? Is your wife having a baby this second? And if so, why are you on the plane? If you’re on your way to her, how about just texting, “Be right there, honey,” and then turning off the phone?
This kind of technological distraction is everywhere. At Dunkin’ Donuts, the person behind the counter was saying, “Excuse me!” to the man who was first in line. He was on his phone, so he didn’t even notice. The counter person went to the second person in line, and then suddenly the first guy said, “Hey!”
“Ah, you’re out of your coma!” the person behind the counter said.
I feel like an old fart sometimes, but I wonder, Where does this take us? These sidewalks aren’t designed for zombies, nor are our highways.
I hear there is a new application for iPhones that lets you see the sidewalk behind the phone while you text. That to me seems like surrender. You can’t read e-mail while doing anything as complex as walking down a crowded sidewalk or driving on a highway.
It’s impossible for your brain to take in that much information, at least it certainly is for me. Once when I was on
