Rejected again

I got a call at 4:30pm today asking if we had any rooms available. As a matter of fact, all of our rooms were available. The entire rest of the county was sold out, and we were completely vacant! If I'd known it was going to be like this, I would have announced we were open three months before we were actually open.

Anyway, I gave him my spiel and he hesitated at the price, which is understandable because in my spiel I completely fail to mention that the building is almost 250 years old, listed on the National Register of Historic Places, and fully restored with all modern conveniences including central air, high-speed Internet, and free phone calls (local and national). I neglect to tell them we're on a 120-acre property on a creek between a lake, a county park, and a 22-acre wolf sanctuary. I skip over the antique furnishings, the authentic Amish quilts in every room, and the incredible crystal chandeliers. I never bring up the parlor, library, or game room for guest use, or the full three-course breakfast served on fine china in the morning. Of course he balked at the price; I would have, too.

But he and his wife decided to come by for a look, anyway. I asked where he was at and he told me 501 and Newport, which is only five minutes away. So while I'm giving him directions, I am sprinting upstairs and grabbing sheets and towels, because the room isn't made!

Of course I had cleaned the room (and bathroom) after the previous guests, but I hadn't put the linens back. They had just pulled into the driveway when I hung the last towel and spread the quilt on the bed. Dawn, meanwhile, had cleaned out the foyer by throwing everything into the kitchen. (We're slowly going through her grandparents' stuff in storage, so every day new stuff shows up in the foyer, and sometimes it stays there.) So we were both dressed in work clothes (Dawn had been scraping the floor in the Paymaster's Office while I had been installing lights along the driveway) and we were both dripping with sweat from our five-minute housecleaning exercise, and now we were greeting potential guests.

Oh, and I should probably mention my beard, which I started growing last week after my electric shaver died. Well, "beard" doesn't quite describe it, because it has grown in patches. I look like a burn victim.

So now I'm going through the spiel and this time mentioning the historic property, the parlor and library, etc., and every time the guests turn away, Dawn kicks me and tells me to offer them a discount. Instead I offered to "upgrade" them to the Summer Kitchen. To get there I can go through the foyer or the kitchen, and I chose the kitchen, not realizing that's where Dawn threw everything moments before: Shoes, paintings, tools, newspapers, boxes, you name it. So now this couple from New York city are in the countryside, on a farm, with two grungy people (one a burn victim) and a completely trashed kitchen, wondering if they should stay. Guess what they decided?

They were polite, though; they said they just weren't comfortable being so "isolated." Of course, most people come to Lancaster to get away from it all, and we pointed out we were just ten minutes from Lititz and Manheim, but they couldn't be swayed (and I still wouldn't offer a discount), so they left and we don't have any guests tonight.

But Kathryn's room is made, and if anyone wants to take it today (Sunday August 20), I'll give you a discount. :-)