Simple Airbnb Check-Out Instructions From Your Host

We hope you made yourself at home in our humble abode! This is a friendly reminder to be checked out by 9:00 tomorrow morning in order to give our cleaning crew ample time to prepare for the next guests. If you would like to request a later check-out time, feel free to message us at least 24 hours before check-out, though it looks like we are already within that window, so nevermind. 

Your payment has already covered the cost of the cleaning crew (remember that little fee that nearly doubled the final price of this Airbnb? Which really sucked because you had already Venmo requested the other couples based on the original price you saw on the listing but were too embarrassed to send a second request to adjust for it, especially because you’re the newest S.O. in your partner’s tight-knit circle and you didn’t want everyone thinking you were dumb for overlooking the fee, or worse, stingy for wanting to split it, even though later on this very trip one of the girlfriend’s would Venmo request everyone for their portion of an 8-minute Uber XL to dinner, which you gladly completed, but then when you offered to call the Uber home from dinner nobody said sh*t about splitting it evenly, so you ended up quietly paying for the whole thing yourself, just like you paid for the entire Airbnb cleaning crew, who actually might be coming closer to 8:00 a.m. tomorrow now that I’m thinking about it because the pool is due for its weekly chlorine treatment), but here are just a few small housekeeping tasks to kindly complete before you go to make it easier for them: 

– Strip the beds 

– Take out the trash 

– Wipe down the trash bins so there’s nothing sticky at the bottom. There’s a hose attached to the side of the house with pretty good water pressure if you need to blast off any goop that’s really stuck on there. 

– Brew a pot of coffee for the cleaning crew to have while they work. Do this last so that it’s still hot by the time they arrive (which might be closer to 7:00 a.m. now that I’m thinking about it because they’re coming from just outside the city and will probably want to beat the morning rush hour) 

– Check on our neighbor Eugenio (yellow house catty-corner to us). He’s an 86-year-old Italian man who doesn’t speak much English, but he could really use the company and sometimes needs help with little things like changing the cats’ litter box or making sure his complicated medical-grade oxygen tank is functioning properly. He also loves music, so if you or anyone in your group plays an instrument and happened to bring it along with you on this trip, I’m sure he’d love to hear original songs or even some covers, though he’s partial to anything from John Mayer’s Continuum for some reason, which we know makes no sense chronologically based on his age – our guess is that he must have had a much younger lover at some point who turned him on to the album. If you happen to find Eugenio dead, of course, just click the little button on his Life Alert necklace and wait with his body for the first responders to arrive.

– There is a big brown Bloomingdale’s bag on the floor of the closet in the primary room full of my husband’s old shirts. They are all marked with either a pink sticky note, a yellow sticky note, or a blue sticky note. Pink indicates the ones that I think he should give away but that he wants to keep; yellow indicates the ones that I’d like him to keep but that he’s fine parting with; blue indicates the ones that we’re both sort of meh about. Could you go through the Pinks and Yellows and add a purple sticky note (top drawer to the left of stove in kitchen) to the ones that you think he should keep (we’ll cross-reference and make our final decisions later) and then any that you don’t care for from the Blue pile (we trust your judgment) you can drop off at the Goodwill Donation Center on 44th and Central Ave. It’s in the opposite direction of the airport but there’s a great coffee shop over there that does pour-overs if you’ve got 25 minutes to spare. Super cute vibe, they sell their own beanies and stuff, too. 

– Get on your hands and knees and scrub the grime out of the shower tiles. A lot of mildewy build-up has set in over the years – nay, generations – seeing as this was actually my mother-in-law’s house where she raised my husband as a single parent while working two jobs. If you don’t scrub the tiles, we will assume you don’t support single mothers or women in general and we will reflect that outwardly in the review we leave you and even relay the message to some of your LinkedIn connections of our discretion. 

– In the northwest corner of the garage, you’ll find a red plastic can full of gasoline. Pour out a healthy amount onto the kitchen floor and locate the matchbook in the junk drawer to the right of the sink. Truthfully, we jumped the gun buying a second home in the city thinking that we could quickly pay ourselves back through the Airbnb income from John’s childhood home, but there have been unforeseen maintenance issues and colossal renovations to make at every turn. We’re completely in the red and desperate for the insurance money, but are too afraid to commit arson ourselves. That’s where you come in, Valued Guest. Simply light the match and drop it in the puddle of sweet, pungent gasoline on the hardwood floor and run. Now that I’m thinking about it, you’ll want to do this anytime before 6:00 a.m. just to make sure the cleaning crew hasn’t arrived on site yet. You wouldn’t want their blood on your hands. 

– Don’t forget to leave a 5-star review! We will reciprocate!!