Being an Airbnb Host Is the Worst Job on Earth!

“Bzzt, bzzt, bzzt,” my phone buzzed 13 times, as the guest who had just checked into my Airbnb sent me as many pictures. A dent on a closet door, a rip in the corner of a rug, a pencil mark on the wall, a chipped fireplace tile, and a pool stick with a worn tip.

Why did he send me these pictures? What did he want?

Maybe he was upset with all the defects in the house. Maybe he was documenting existing problems so he wouldn’t be blamed for them. Or he was strategically positioning himself before launching a new round of price negotiation.

Lacking the means to clarify his intention, I decided to assume the best. “Thanks,” I texted him. “It is a beautiful house. But it has hosted many vacationers, and not all of them were gentle with it. Don’t worry. You will not be held responsible for any of these issues. Have a great time and enjoy Lake Tahoe.”

I didn’t hear any response. In fact, I have never heard from him again. But no news is good news, as they say in the Airbnb host community. It was the best way I could have hoped to end a conversation.

Sometimes I was not so lucky. Once a party was going to stay in the house for four weeks. As soon as they arrived, they started reporting problems.

First, it was the rust on the charcoal BBQ grill. The grill was reasonably new and should be in decent shape. But since it was February, it likely had been a while since anyone had used it. In the meantime, it rained and snowed many times. In any case, when I was there a few months ago, I forgot to inspect it, for which I felt enormously guilty.

I apologized profusely. Then I ordered a new BBQ grill from Amazon and had it delivered to the house.

On the second day, I received a text message while cooking dinner. The oven didn’t work, they informed me. It wouldn’t heat up beyond 250 degrees.

That was odd. An oven usually lasts for a long time. Many guests have stayed in the house, but nobody has ever mentioned any problem. Moreover, if an oven quit working, it would quit altogether rather than limit its ability to a specific temperature range.

But I didn’t want to sound too skeptical. It wouldn’t be polite. So I promised to ask a handyman to take a look. The next day, the handyman went to the house. He checked the oven. It was perfect.

But text messages kept coming in. The toy chest had a loose hinge. There was not enough hot water. The microwave made a strange noise.

Whenever my phone vibrated, my heart skipped a beat because I knew it was from them. I started to count how many more days they would remain in my place. It would be a very long four weeks.

Then I received a notice from Airbnb. The guest requested a discount because the house was different from what was advertised.

Of course, that was what they wanted all along! No wonder the house had so many problems.

I wrote to Airbnb. My price was fair, and I wouldn’t offer the guests any discount. But if the guests felt they had overpaid, they had my permission to look for better alternatives. As stated in the rental agreement, they were not eligible for a refund if they decided to leave in the middle of their stay. But in this case, I would refund them for the remainder of their trip.

In some sense, it was a foolish move. I was voluntarily giving up the rental income already in my pocket. My house would most likely sit empty for the next three weeks.

But I had developed such a dislike for these people and would be glad to have them gone, even at a financial loss. Plus, I believed the guests didn’t hate the house as much as they claimed. The only purpose of their maneuver was to reduce the bill. I believed I was calling their bluff.

I soon heard from Airbnb. The guests wanted to stay. Since I also rejected their request for a discount, Airbnb closed the case.

But that’s not the end of it. On the last day of their stay, they sent me a private message requesting a thousand dollars. They said they’d had many issues with the house, and if I didn’t pay them, they would write a review to expose all the problems.

I contacted Airbnb right away and suggested the guests were blackmailing me. Airbnb agreed with my assessment. When the guests did write a one-star review, Airbnb removed it.

In this incident, though I was unlucky in admitting crooks into my house, it was a fluke that they were recent college graduates who were relatively new in the business of defrauding. Had they possessed more expertise, they would have been more discreet in their extortion attempt, making it harder for me to present my case to Airbnb. Then maybe, to avoid bad publicity, I would have caved in and made at least a partial payment to them.

Most guests are good. Unscrupulous people are few and far between. But even good people can create headaches. Some have endless questions in a new environment with unfamiliar gadgets. How does the TV work? Why don’t you have HBO? Some are so jaded that no matter how hard you try, they only leave tepid reviews. Then there is the self-righteous type who imagine themselves as the world’s saviors and always crusade to fix problems.

Some people don’t complain much. They quietly break things. I have to replace my wine glass set every few months. Once, the backrest of a couch was ripped apart from the seat. All four couches have been replaced in the last few years, one of which twice. The towels are ruined by blood stains or who knows what all the time. The hardwood floor has deep scratches in many places.

Being an Airbnb host is the world’s worst job. By becoming an Airbnb host, I have accidentally stumbled upon the career of customer service, which I deliberately avoided in my youth. You have little control over what kind of people you are dealing with. Good or bad, happy or grumpy, laidback or fussy, you must make all of them happy. If you are overly conscientious and too attentive to your spotless reputation, it is very easy to fall into distress.

Recently a party spent a snowy weekend on my property. Fresh powders covered the ski slopes. The snowflakes twirling in the air were magical and dreamy. They had a wonderful time.

When they were ready to check out, however, the street was covered by several feet of snow. They thought it was not a good idea to drive home and asked if they could stay an extra night. I said yes and quoted them the price. That’s when things started to turn sour.

Must we pay for the extra night? They asked. We were stranded here by lousy weather, which was not our fault.

I should have recognized the warning sign. But in the past, when roads were officially closed due to bad weather, the guests appreciated that I let them continue their stay at the same rate. I wouldn’t take advantage of the situation and charge them extra. But as the owner of a private business with an underlying cost, I was also not obligated to provide them free accommodation.

I carefully drafted a message to explain my rationale and hoped they would understand. I revised the note at least ten times, then before hitting the “send” button, added that I would give them a 30% discount to ease their financial burden.

They agreed to my proposal. The weather cleared the next day, and they left. A few days later, I was informed the guest had left me a review. With a premonition, I opened the review. Not surprisingly, they gave me a 3-star rating.

As it happened, before the night of their extra stay, there was a power outage. Although the power company estimated the power would come back in a few hours, it didn’t. The estimate was pushed back repeatedly, and the power was only restored the following morning. The guests stayed the whole night powerless.

That was all they talked about in the review. That I didn’t contact them right away when the power outage occurred. That they could find only one flashlight in the house. That they definitely wouldn’t want to re-live the cold and dark experience.

I understand how miserable it was to spend a winter night without power. I endured it on my ski trip before. But it never occurred to me to take out my frustration on the hosts. What can they do? Then they mentioned that I didn’t let them stay the extra night for free. Of course, that was the root cause of their grievance.

At least they were decent enough to acknowledge it was a lovely house with everything they needed before the power outage. That was why they didn’t give me an even worse review. But a 3-star already dragged down my average score drastically.

Maybe I should have given them the additional night for free. I have every right not to do so. It is my house. I make the rules. I don’t even have to accommodate them that night. But people live in parallel worlds. We don’t see things eye to eye. My mistake was I overestimated my ability to communicate. I thought I could make them see things my way. But actually, I couldn’t.

As a veteran Airbnb host, I have long known that reasoning with guests is a bad idea. Then I figured out empathy and compassion don’t go far, either. In the end, it’s money that talks. It is like people always buy the cheapest airline tickets, regardless of how much they say they care about customer service.

Therefore, don’t withhold the guests’ security deposit no matter how many plates they have broken. Offer them a free stay if they hint that’s what they want. Refund them if they insist. What? It’s against your principle? Suck it up. You are an Airbnb host. The word “principle” doesn’t exist in your dictionary.