Member-only story
Someone Booked My Home on Airbnb. I Never Listed It
When a Stranger Walked Into My House Thinking It Was an Airbnb.
It was a Sunday afternoon. I had just made coffee and sat down to read when the door opened.
Yes, opened.
A man walked in, dragging a suitcase. He looked around, smiled, and said, “Nice place.”
I froze.
He looked normal. Early thirties, backpack, a wheeled suitcase. He wasn’t robbing me. He thought he belonged here.
“Can I help you?” I asked.
He looked puzzled. “I’m your guest. Airbnb.”
“No,” I said. “You’re not.”
He frowned. “This is 145 Glenmore, right?”
“Yes.”
He held up his phone. “I booked it last week. I have the code and everything.”
I didn’t know what to say. My house wasn’t listed on Airbnb. I’d never used the site. I lived here. This was my house.
He must’ve seen the look on my face, because he stepped back. “Wait… this isn’t the rental?”
“No. I live here.”
Now he looked shaken. “But I got a code.”
