Truth.

I rented an Airbnb in a walkup in Rodgers Park. I expected stairs, avant-garde décor, and ease of access to cafes.

I was met by the host when I arrived late at night; She told me that the windows in the entire apartment where open to circulate fresh air.

I learned, after closing them, that they were open because the apartment had radiators and no thermostat for heat control. Absent open windows, the internal apartment temperature rose to 90 degrees on a cold fall Chicago day.

What the host really meant was that keeping open windows was more necessity than option. Fresh air was needed too. She was less than forthright.

The host also mentioned at my arrival was that the kitchen was “small”. At first look-see, it certainly appeared larger than many I have seen in rentals; I dismissed that comment in the fatigue of my late night arrival.

I learned, when I went to make eggs the following morning, that the host provided not one single frying pan, no toaster or toaster oven, or air-fryer, and no condiments of any type, even salt. While I could boil water in the single available saucepan, the kitchen was otherwise ill-equipt for even the most basic of cooking tasks.

The host was telegraphing by her comment that the kitchen was small that really it was not servicable for standard purposes.

Too, before I had arrived, I had asked the host about access to Wi-fi for use in my remote work. The host indicated that the internet is (was) fine.

When I arrived, I was too tired to focus on a streaming program of any type late on a Thursday evening. By the next day, I noted the absence of televisions, bose or other speakers, or laptop computers.

In truth, the internet was ‘fine’ in that it was ‘present’. The use the internal wi-fi for more than e-mail downloads was impossible; the router was circa the dark ages and the speed likewise. Even with my computer directly plugged in to the wall, loading more than a page a minute led to frustration at best.

My planned morning meeting happened over zoom on my i-phone with the sounds of a noisy public street a bit too much background noise Not the first such instance, and likely not the last.

What are our obligations when we communicate with others in a situation like this one? To what end must one interpret, or over-interpret, the messages given?

I certainly felt that the host was not honest; I had expectations for communication that were more certain and definitive.  She knew I needed fast internet for work, and, certainly with that item, deliberately did not tell me about the lack of speed to secure my booking.

I had not asked questions about the first two situations; Had the host told me that the heat was on overdrive, I likely would have accepted open windows, placed another blanket on the bed for sleeping and thought nothing more. Had the host told me that she did not provide cooking utensils or condiments, I might have brought my own.

But, had the host been forthright that words the internet was ‘fine’ meant the internet was present, I would have not booked this unit. 

I wanted one single thing, and received another.

In life’s journeys, there are derailments that make for blog posts about clear communication, or lessons in speculation about other’s needs; Perhaps the host here really needed my stay, and couldn’t be forthright for fear of loss of revenue over a high ticket Chicago marathaon weekend. Perhaps the host actually thought the fresh air solution meant there was not an issue with the heat, or that the absent supplies in the kitchen reduced its usefulness to small(er) tasks.

I wish this soul the best on her life’s journey.