Thursday, November 15, 2007

What Sucks…Bed And Breakfasts

I know I’m not the first to address this issue but the phenomenon the “Bed & Breakfast” may be the clearest indication yet of the difference between the minds of men and women. What follows is a brief explanation of the subject, using the latest in “what women say/ what men hear” technology patented by Tim Allen in the late 80’s.

To women, the “B&B” represents a romantic getaway to a quaint village seemingly forgotten by time. To men, it means we’re “doing it” on a stranger’s couch. Women say “I think we should go to a B&B this weekend.” Men hear, “Oh, you want to fuck on a stranger’s couch? Something wrong with our couch? Did our couch break?”

I don’t get the entire B&B experience- we’re staying at the home of a complete stranger, sharing a bathroom with complete strangers all for the pleasure of making awkward conversation with complete strangers who offer me Danishes and make me eggs in a way I don’t like them to be made.

They have sitting rooms where we are supposed to sit and read old magazines, in furniture that if we were to get comfortable in, would break. There are pillow covers, and ornate lamps and very little in the way of cable TV. There’s no way if we knew these people would we stay in their house- yet the fact that we don’t know them allows us to say “Yeah, I’ll sleep here, in the middle of nowhere, where no one can hear me scream.” B&B operators are boring and they clearly value things that I would never - like wind chimes and quilts. Their house is creaky and unsettling and they go to bed at 8 so if you should leave and come back you have to tiptoe to your room and the sun isn’t even down yet.

Oh by the way, I got up in the middle of the night last night to use the bathroom and met a ghost! Did you know you have a ghost living on the premises? Oh, it adds to the charm? Really? Cause in 1963, when a young couple’s car broke down outside and they rang the bell of the house you now own, he answered, invited them in, and then killed them in their sleep. That car buried out in back of the shed- that’s theirs and I think we could still keep the charm of the place if we dusted it for prints.

Something wrong with your couch?


Anonymousfornow said...

I'm a woman, but I'm with you, I'd rather get laid on my own couch.

Jenna Darkly said...

Did you learn everything you know about women from a cheesy sitcom? You can't paint people with such broad strokes, men and women all have unique tastes and personalitys. Stereotypes are for the weak minded comic Deluca I expect more from you, unless Tim Allen is in fact your idol and what you astrive to be.

I would never want to sleep at a nad and breakfast, I'm not even comfortable staying over with relatives.

nad was a typo but I'm leaving it because it made me laugh for five minutes straight.

I am all wound up and I apologise for my long winded post.

loves and cuddles,

Anonymous said...

I'm another woman who hates bed and breakfasts -- but in every adult relationship I've had, the man has surprised me with a "romantic weekend" at a B&B. Now, I get the idea of going away to a quaint town and doing quaint things but bed and breakfasts are just houses of strangers who make you pay out the nose to be there.

I'm uncomfortable in stranger's homes, but throw in having to pay to be there and the attempts to be "quaint" that include embroidered everything and really old quilts on the bed instead of a bedspread that may have actually been cleaned this century, and I will spend the entire stay trying to avoid sitting or laying on anything. (Which, as far as I'm concerned, nothing quite kills romance like the thought of how many people have used the bedspread since it was last washed.)

I even dislike the old upholstered furniture -- I don't know where it's been or what's been done on it and unfortunately, that's all I can think about when sitting in it ("Ewww, I don't want to touch the arms of this chair, how far forward can I sit in it so I don't have to touch much of it?")

The worst part -- B&Bs are always old houses and old houses smell old and I spend the entire visit trying to get the smell of death/decaying out of my nostrils. Yuck, yuck, yuck!

I realize you meant to be humorous, but seriously, this stereotype of women loving bed and breakfasts has to end.