Hollywood Hayes – AirBNB

Sorry, I can’t make it tonight, bit of a crack whore situation going on in my kitchen.

Hollywood’s some laugh.

Let me explain.

So my roommate is in London for a few months for work. Decided to rent out his room on AirBnB while he’s gone. Bit apprehensive at first.

What if they’re psychotic? Murderers? Or, worst of all, what if they’re loud?

Nah, it’ll be grand. Extra cash, might get a tale or two (money and story are my two biggest motivators in life).

Cool, I’m in.

Room. Up. Offers. In. Ding ding ding. Rent on.

First guest: Andre. Big chap, about 6’4, long dreads, looks like the boxer Lennox Lewis. Quiet, polite, visiting from the east coast, in LA for a few days for his birthday.

Barely see him the first night. Second day we chat for two minutes, asking me where’s good to go at night. Hollywood, tourist spot, should be fun. Away he goes.

I take a nap. Wake up at eight. Comedy show in an hour. Get ready. Do the check – Phone, wallet, keys, hair, all there, good to go. Walk out of my bedroom, close the door, turn around, see a hooker sitting on my couch. What the fu-

“Hi” I limp out, body shutting down into silent mode while my brain tries to compute what’s going on.

She stares at me dead-eyed, calls out,

“Annndreee, who dis?”

Who’s this? Who are you?

“Hi I’m Mar- How’s it- Hi,” I whisper. Good work, brain, doing us proud here.

Andre appears from the balcony, introduces me to his new friend, Diamond.

Diamond?

Looks like a cracked out version of Tina Turner. No front teeth, lopsided black wig, string bikini, see-through shawl around her waist and high heels.

Diamond in the rough, alright. Oddly, I recognise her from somewhere.

Stands up and walks like a deer on ice into the other bedroom. Andre smiles,

“We’re just gonna hang out here for a while, we’ll be quiet.”

Instead of saying “Eh, no” I go with “No problem, Andre, that’s cool!”

I’m a weak man.

Awkward fist-bump. Wait until he closes his door. Spin around, back into my bedroom. Check if my door locks: Outside, no. Dose. Inside, yes. Click. Locked. Safe.

My brain reminds me where I’ve seen Diamond before – Oh yeah. Walking home one night she came up offering sex for money, asked me for some crack and then tried to pickpocket me. Yup – She’s a thieving crack whore.

Maybe she’s not anymore though, my brains asks?

I don’t know – Am I being judgmental?

Get a text from Andre:

Hey bro, got any more clean towels? Gotta take a shower.

Reply:

No problem! They’re in the closet! Let me know if you need anything else! Here to help!

Pretty sure showering is a sign of prostitution in this scenario. Go with gut. Need to take everything valuable downstairs to my car. Can’t leave it here while I’m gone. Laptop, jewelry, passport, books, jackets – Lot of stuff. Hear the shower running. Might be safe.

Peep my head out the door – Nope. Diamond’s sitting at the kitchen table eating my food, a sandwich I’d been saving. Gives me a dirty look when she sees me. Nice.

Back to my room. Look at my pile of valuables. It’ll take two trips to get it to my car. Can’t walk out carrying it all, don’t want them to think I’m rude, that’d be the worst. Might give me a bad AirBnB rating.

Only option: Stay here and guard it. Better safe than sorry. Won’t be making the comedy show. Imprisoned in my own abode.

Send the text out explaining why I must cancel. People think I’m lying. I’m not. Go get a glass of water. Take a photo of Diamond as proof. Fear for my life she saw me. She didn’t. Phew. Safe. Room. Click. Hide for the night.

Next morning. Groggy. Why’s my door locked? Oh yeah. Walk out. Diamond. Again. Kitchen table. Eating my porridge, drinking Jack Daniels straight from the bottle. Sweet Jesus, not my porridge. Enough is enough!

Furious text:

Hey Andre, hope you slept OK! Not to be an inconvenience but I have to get the room ready for the next guests. Is that cool? Whenever suits!

That told him.

Andre replies, apologizing. Hopes he wasn’t loud last night (I slept like a baby).

Absolute pleasure! I reply.

As an apology he leaves $20 on the kitchen counter for having an over night guest. Not sure if that made me a pimp or my place a brothel, but I obviously took it.

And now, I must go wash the sheets and get the room ready again. I’ve a gay Austrian couple coming to stay for the weekend, Lenny and Gunther, both of whom look like the lead singer of the band Right Said Fred.

So yeah, fun times at Chateau Hayes.

Tags: AirBnb, America, Books, Booze, Columnist, Comedian, Crack Whore, DJ, Drink, Drugs, Fun, Ireland, Irish Examiner, LA, Mark Hayes, Music, Porn, PreDumb, Prostitute, Randumb, RanDumber, West Hollywood, Writer, Writing