An Open Break-up Letter to Airbnb
Your last apartment was the straw that broke our relationship’s back
You looked so lovely in your pictures.
You had me swooning at your big floor-to-ceiling windows, your balcony, and your brand-new furniture. Even your previous relationships had nothing bad to say about you — five stars across the board.
I thought I’d found a good one.
The problems started when your handler got involved. Could I negotiate the price of your services? It’s a little higher than I think you’re worth.
Nope.
Can I leave my bags with you for a couple of hours on the last day, even if it’s just in your lobby?
Nope.
OK, I thought. It’s no big deal, a small price to pay for spending time in your company. After all, it’s slim pickings out there, the only other options didn’t jive with me at all and were even more expensive.
The problems started the second I saw you. I should have realized you were not as independent as I thought when I got involved with your handler. But I knew the second I saw the rows of lockboxes outside the block that you weren’t one in a million or even one in a hundred.
