i hate b&bs

Earlier this year I went to a charity event. It was the usual save-the-animals yadeeyadah. I go to a lot of these. This one seemed a teensy bit low budget, because raffle tickets for "the big draw" cost only $10. I bought a ticket and didn't even bother looking at the prizes.

Well, I got the phone call a few days later congratulating me on being the big winner. Skeptical and figuring that I had won an animal stuffed toy or perhaps a specimen of taxidermy, I asked what the prize was. I won a bed & breakfast for a night. The whole bed & breakfast. Me and up to seven friends.

Now, I've stayed at b&bs before. This summer, for example, I went to Fallingwater with a friend (yes, we're geeks) and we ended up staying at a b&b in the middle of nowhere that was owned by Jehovah's Witnesses. They looked way too young to be married and gave us many, many pamphlets. And the Jesus Camp was just down the street.

But that's not really the reason why I hate b&bs. I'm a city girl and I enjoy being nameless. I like that I can go to the local drugstore and buy a home pregnancy test and nobody will spend the rest of the day speculating on the identity of the father. I enjoy that I can go for breakfast and the person who cooked my meal doesn't need to know what I did yesterday and what I plan to do today. But then I end up at a b&b and all is lost. The walls are resplendent with floral patterns and there are so many trinkets and chotchkas that I'm afraid to make my usual sweeping gestures during conversation. I'm out of my element and my defenses are down. Then the owner starts with the questions. So many, many questions.

So today I'm heading out there with some friends. Velma (yes, that's the owner's name, and I've already seen photos of her floral walls) and I have already had numerous phone and email conversations. She's offered numerous suggestions for our weekend. She also ran the breakfast menu past me almost five weeks ago. Yes, five.

Wish me luck.

RainyBow