Not long after AirBnb launched, I gave it a run as a host, as I live in the heart of Sydney and not far at all from Sydney Opera House. A month went by. Nothing – no requests to stay with me. Another few weeks. Nothing. I live right by heaps of bars, on the water, pool, 24hrs security and concierge and – what the fuck? Well, it’s because I had no reviews / no rating as a host. (Oh, and I’m a guy writing this – so pull your sweatpants back up if you fancied a woman scribing this tale.)
Finally, I get an email from a very cute girl from Southern France. It was her first trip using AirBnb, and she was nervous about safety, payment, etc. We moved our chat over to facebook, and that seemed to provide a sanity check that had her booking my spare room for $100 per night over five nights. She arrived: Her accent. Her smile. Stunning. I showed her Sydney, and she also did her solo touristy things. On her last night, I treated some drinks on the water, and we got flirty. Drunk. And had great sex. She asked in her adorable French accent / cute English errors: “Why have not we made love on all zee nights?” Well, I didn’t want to make a move and have a woman feel uncomfortable in my apartment for days and days, so it was one night only. And? Woosh. She was gone. French lovers are, well – the best. There’s no fake-tinder-pornstar-bullshit-fucking – just amazing European passion – the best.