I Got Trapped In My Airbnb
Quick thinking helped me break out.
As I sometimes do, I decided — on a whim — to go on a writing retreat this holiday weekend. The Airbnb home that I rented is located in the Virginia countryside, about an hour away from my home.
The owner told me, early-on, that she would be out of town. All the better, I thought. No one would distract me from my writing.
My basement apartment is fenced off on all sides, as you can see below. Except for the occasional rabbit or raccoon that is able to squeeze through the wire fence (not pictured), I wouldn’t be getting any visitors.
The first day went without a hitch. I wrote more than 2,000 words in one afternoon, and I wanted to go out for a drive to relax, and maybe a beer. I’m not really a beer drinker, but I felt like I deserved one.
Since — during my graduate studies — I wrote a strategic communications plan on a beer product, I’m familiar with the industry’s corporate communications messaging. According to my research, drinking a few beers makes you feel power, and that idea is reflected in beer commercials.
