Houseguests Start To Smell After A While
A high-level debate has been raging recently over house guests.
Are summertime visitors a pleasant break from the routine? Or are they plague-dogs from the devil?
Tough call. But the very fact that we are debating this issue today reveals something vital about ourselves, namely, that we have too much time on our hands.
However, it occurred to me that house guests everywhere could use some assistance in determining whether they have overstayed their welcome. As the great Ben Franklin himself once said, visitors and carp begin to ferment after three days if not refrigerated.
So I hereby present “How to Tell If You Have Overstayed Your Welcome.”
If your hosts utter any of the following sentences:
“Don’t mind me. I’m just your maid.”
“We’ve had a little family meeting, and we’ve decided to start charging you.”
“Is it OK if I leave for work now? Does that fit in with your schedule?”
“Get it yourself, bum.”
“Lucky us. This is the second time this week you’ve offered to do the dishes.”
“I’m sure you’ve stayed in better bed-and-breakfasts. But none cheaper, I suppose.”
“No. I have no idea how a flyer for the Motel 6 ended up on your pillow.”
“For dinner tonight, feel free to root around for nuts and berries in the back yard.”
“Absolutely! I think an excursion to Lake Coeur d’Alene sounds wonderful today. Here, I’ll call you a cab.”
“Tough toenails.”
“Your airline ticket was roundtrip, wasn’t it?”
“Refresh my memory - exactly how are we related?”
“The children are so lonesome for their own bedrooms.”
“I’m sorry you didn’t like my spaghetti. I hope I didn’t jeopardize my tip.”
“No, seriously, you can’t put off your return trip forever while they repair your car. Take ours. Please. Keep it.”
“Yes, of course I believe you, but I’ll still require a note from your doctor.”
“Don’t mention it. I put it on your tab.”
“This is a washing machine. Allow me to teach you how to use it … “
“We would like to propose a compromise. How do you feel about sleeping in tents?”
“Forget it. The bar is closed, pal.”
“Go ahead and use the bathroom. I’ll set the timer.”
“Touch it one more time, kid, and you’re dead.”
“Kiss my (anything).”
“No shirts, no shoes, no service.”
“You go ahead and watch Letterman. It won’t keep me awake; I’ll be too heavily sedated.”
“Did I not make myself clear about our no-pet policy?”
“Please believe me when I say that we have been delighted to have you as a house guest. However, your biker boyfriend … “
“It’s been good practice for when I start my own industrial janitorial business.”
“We accept Visa and MasterCard.”
“Just one question: Do you behave this way at home?”
“Come over here. I just want to show you our electricity bill.”
“I’m not saying it’s a problem. I’m just saying we’re surprised to find you still here after our vacation.”
“Tell you what. Let’s just add your name to the property title and be done with it.”
“This apartment has never seemed quite so - cozy - as it has this week.”
“Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just a Greyhound bus schedule I happened to bring home today.”
“We’ve become so comfortable with you around, we are going to reinstitute our family custom of eating breakfast naked.”
“What was that Ben Franklin quote again? Fish and visitors smell after how many days?”
“What? You’ll have to yell louder. I can’t hear you through the front door. You’re locked out of where? You don’t have a what? I’m sorry, you’ll just have to yell louder.”
, DataTimes MEMO: Jim Kershner’s column appears Saturdays on IN Life.