September
1996
Tires crunched in the gravel driveway, interrupting Bill's
nightly newstime nap.
“Do you think they will like it?” his wife, Pat, asked
nervously.
“Who gives a damn? They agreed to $135 night, it is the
peak of leaf-peeper season, where else are they gonna go?”
snapped Bill.
“I'm just nervous… I'm not sure if these individual
soufflés will work for breakfast … “
“Quit fussing over the soufflés. What's their last name
again? Washington?”
“Bill … “
Pat sighed with a weary sense of exasperation. She knew
where this was headed and with the guests approaching,
there wasn't time. She tried evasion.
“Mmm, I think so.”
“Don't play loosey-goosey with me, dangnamit. If they are
negroes, I'll be nice. I just wanted to brook myself in
case they were pushy Jewish folks.”
“Bill, lower your voice, they are outside, for pete's sake.
And you know you cannot discriminate, not in a business. It
is against the law.”
“I am not discriminating, I am trying to be a good
hotelier. That last Jewish couple we had were disappointed
we didn't have the Sunday Times … I just want to be
prepared.”
With every molecule in his body, Bill tried to look
innocent and somewhat hurt at being accused of being a
racist. After nearly three decades of marriage, though, Pat
failed to fall for the ruse.
“This inn was your idea and I know you are smart enough to
not ruin our retirement with your white-bread narrow-minded
views. Now tuck your shirt in and look presentable. They
are late, they must have had a long drive getting here, it
is our job to welcome them, regardless of their skin tone.”
Bill decided a change of subject would be his best bet of
getting out of this disagreement with some pride intact.
“Speaking of them being late, didn't you tell them that
check-in time was from 4:30 to 6:45? Showing up at 7:30 --
just shows they don't respect our hours of operation. Did
you tell them about our late check-in fee?”
“Bill, we don't have a late check-in fee.”
Toddling over to his computer, Bill pecked a little on the
keyboard, printed out an invoice, and sneered “Well, we do
now.”
***
Tom and Joann hadn't meant to be late to the Do Drop In.
They were trapped in turnpike traffic, had an argument
about Tom's shortcut that put them in an hour-long circle,
and stopped for a quick snack. As they were unloading their
gear from the car, Bill's newly-created fifteen dollar late
fee was being charged to their Visa.
Joann had always been a bed & breakfast fan, and in the
past year of dating Tom, she'd convinced him of the
advantages of staying in quaint mom-and-pop Victorians.
Despite their winning streak, Tom remained a bit reluctant
prior to arrival, worried they'd run out of luck and hit a
horrible place. He often joked that he'd need a “doily
detox” at a roadside motel.
As they sank into their narrow bed at the Do Drop In, Tom's
jaws clenched.
“Late check-in charge? Who's heard of that? We gave them
our credit card to guarantee late arrival, just like the
hotels do … where'd you hear about this place, anyway?”
“Tom, we both found this place using the internet. The book
I have doesn't even have this guy listed.”
Tom snorted, he knew Joann would win this argument.
He looked up at the ceiling and saw that there was about a
one-inch gap between the ceiling and the wall. His eyes
followed a water stain down the rough-hewn logs, and
quickly spotted gaps between the floor and the wall. Before
he could thoroughly digest the mechanics of this
seemingly-suspended wall, he was startled to see two army
boots -- or, at least, the rounded toes of the boots -
through the crack by the floor. Not wanting to say anything
to Joann, for fear of alerting the peeping tom, he Tom
quickly flipped open his laptop.
“Oh, Tom, really! The laptop … This is supposed to be a
romantic weekend … what do you mean shuuuush?”
Tom quickly typed on his laptop “I think the innkeeper is
standing outside our room… is he a peeping Tom?”
***
Retired Air Force Sergeant Bill Pennebaker was not spying
on his guests. He was urinating on the expensive terra
cotta geranium planter outside the guest cabin. The only
way to keep the deer from chewing up the landscape was the
scent of testosterone. Pat's long-departed Schnauzer,
Minty, had done a thorough job watering the lawn, but since
Minty had crossed the rainbow bridge, it was now up to Bill
to keep the place looking spiffy.
As he emptied his voluminous bladder, Bill reflected on his
life and realized that his retirement was not quite dream
material. Then again, Bill's life was pockmarked with
soaring dreams and crashing failures. He had vowed this
stint in the innkeeping business would be his one last
hurrah, his one final chance to make his mark on this
planet.
A flash of headlights from the neighbors startled him; on
prior night time waterings, the neighbors had accused him
of public indecency. No sense in starting a fight tonight,
not with paying guests in the cabin. Unable to stop the
steady stream, Bill stepped as close as possible to a
nearby holly bush, and gave a friendly hi-neighbor wave
with his free hand. Mr. Pennebaker was woefully unaware of
the 6-point buck, snacking on the other side of the holly.
***
When Pat heard Bill's panicked yelps, she ran to find him
writhing, face down, on the ground. Their neighbor Ray and
paying guests Tom and Joann stood around Bill in a frozen
triptych of futility. Only after Tom and Joann ran to the
main house to call 9-1-1 did Pat ascertain the nature of
Bill's injury.
While the paramedics attended to Bill, Pat grabbed her
HABBI To Help handbook, as a drowning victim would cling to
a buoyant piece of wood. Thumbing through the index, she
found plenty of references. A for ambulance, C for crisis,
E for emergency:
“If the guest is taken away from your premises in an
ambulance, a good innkeeper will accompany the guest to the
appropriate medical facility. Day-old cookies in a festive,
seasonally appropriate baggie make an excellent snack for
accompanying family members, and will provide the necessary
diversion while you (discreetly) seek legal counsel.
“[ hint: as troubles will inevitably happen from time to
time, we recommend keeping a to-go bag of snacks in the
freezer. Sugar cookies thaw faster than you can say
'primary care physician.']
“If an innkeeper/staff member is taken from your premises
in an ambulance, it is important that, when possible, the
healthy innkeeper resist the urge to accompany their
spouse/life partner/employee and stay on the premises. This
assures guests that you are running a professional
operation. It also enables you to stay behind and prevent
any unnecessary -- and costly -- violations of your
cancellation policy that may stem from a crisis.”
Dutifully, Pat stayed behind and mulled cider for the
guests. She knew she'd hear about this later. She was a
HABBI poster child, through and through. The Hospitality
Association of Bed & Breakfast Innkeepers - better
known as HABBI - had been Pat's life raft through this
first tumultuous year of owning a small inn. HABBI's
“Innkeeping: Run with the Inn Crowd” book was considered
the “bible” of new B&B owners. The monthly newsletter
reminded members to pay their dues on time, and made
innkeepers feel they were getting their money's worth.
Bill hadn't wanted to join HABBI, and he groused for days
after Pat mailed in their first $450 membership check. He
disliked their cult-like insistence on pronouncing HABBI so
it almost sounded like the word “happy” … but Pat thought
it was ingenious and always like to work HABBI into a
sentence, her most favorite being “we are HABBI to help.”
Most guests had not heard of the trade association and left
with the mistaken impression that Pat was valiantly trying
to overcome a speech impediment.
However much Bill grumbled, he knew deep down that HABBI
had helped them get where they were. HABBI's AIM UP
[Aspiring Innkeepers Mentor Understudy Program] seminar was
what finally convinced Pat that owning an inn would, truly,
be their dream come true.