Chapter 3: Air BnB
Summer day in St. Louis, what could be better? Well, before you answer that, I know, there’s a lot that could be better. But this was a pretty nice day and I was doing some day drinking on Wash Ave with my best friend Nick, while pre-gaming for a Cards game. So it wasn’t too bad. Nick gets a text from and old Kauai co-worker Jinny Lee, who just arrived to town with her friend. I use the term friend very loosely with her. In actuality she was an Asian bitch, but she was pretty cute, and Nick and I were off the next day so we decided to grab a couple drinks with her. Who knows, maybe her friend is slightly less bitchy then her and a hundred times more slutty.
We decided to meet at a local burger joint called Baily’s Range. Best fucking burger in the city hands down and I would put it against anyone in the world, by the way. Nick and I got there first to pound a few Schaflys, to help us cope with the awkward hello's and how-is-everything chatter. That Asian princess and her friend finally make their way in. Yea, I know I painted a great picture there of her friend but I can’t remember what she looked like so she was nothing to write home about. Spoiler alert, I didn’t get laid or even an old fashion, even though she was about to have the best burger of her life. After a mostly pointless conversation, Jinny mentions that she is paying most of her trip by renting her NYC apartment through an app called Airbnb. Nick and I had never heard of this so we ask her to dive into more detail about it. For the first time in the forty-five minutes we have been there, I am finally interested in something she has to say. Jinny mentions that you can rent your apartment out to people and choose what you want to charge, only after another grueling hour or so of listening to her bitch about how much she misses home and how expensive New york is (but that she really loves it). We get it, you live in a cool city and were stuck in St. Louis. Nick and I finally say bye to Jinny and her friend who I don’t remember, but not without a couple forced selfies and fake smiles with hashtags surely to come. On the walk home there was a little mouse in my head and he had his Nike’s on while turning that wheel in the cage. All I could think was how I could capitalize on this Airbnb and get a little extra doe-ray-me in my pocket. As soon as I got home I started doing my research and calculations in my head. I had come up with an official plan and a new source of income.
The next day I called Nick to pitch it to him as he would be vital in my success. Nick and l both lived in lofts on Washington Avenue in Downtown St. Louis, just blocks from each other. My condo was obviously nicer because I was better at my job than he was and made more money. But his place was serviceable and had a large living room area. Oh I forgot to mention, we both rented, not that you probably didn’t have an idea of that one. Kid in his mid-twenties with a budding alcoholism problem didn’t have enough cash to put down on a house, shocking. I informed Nick that I could charge $110 a night for people to stay at my place and I would pay him $20 a night to stay on his couch when the place is rented. Nick was hesitant but the Jew in him couldn’t say no to a twenty spot so he gave me his blessing. Later that day, there were some below quality amateur pictures of my condo up online and ready to be whored out to whoever was willing to sleep on that bed of mine. Allow me to paint the picture of this domain: Beautiful one bedroom with a den and floor to ceiling windows overlooking the Stan Musial Bridge. Oversized bathtub for the foreplay and walk-in shower for the finisher. I just went six to midnight thinking about that damn bridge. Full bar with pool table in the middle of the living room, with a flat screen TV and sound bar hanging on the wall. Just a heads up for any guy out there who’s never owned a pool table. You owe it to yourself to do it once in your life. Nothing like relaxing after a long day of work with a scotch in your hand as you shoot some stick. Playing pool isn’t bad either. Hey now! If that’s not enough, it also serves as an aphrodisiac. When playing pool with a woman she almost can’t help but get penetrated during an intimate teaching session. That’s the good, the bad about the place was, there was a fucking pool table in the middle of the living room with no furniture other than a glass bar with bright red bar stools in the corner overlooking that glorious Musial Bridge. My bedroom left much to be desired as well. I mean the bed in itself was a queen, but I had this thing since I was in high school and let’s just say I wasn’t always pulling 6’s you know. You need to start in the Minors before getting the call-up to the big leagues. There was no dresser and one small night stand filled with condoms and lube next to old faithful. I had a large 56” TV in the den with an uncomfortable modern looking pleather couch that I had overpaid for at Rooms to Go. Somehow though, I put in my listing as fits four comfortably. Two on the bed, three if you play your cards right, one on the couch and the sleeper no one thinks about. One on the pool table although you’re going to want a pillow for that one.
A couple days went by without getting a bite until I finally hooked one. Kid was coming into town for a barista convention and needed a place by the convention center. Great! A fag stoner wants to rent my place. But fuck, I had no reviews and people didn’t know what to think of me, so I had to take it to get the ball rolling. I’m probably going to want to clean those pool sticks before next use though. My guest informs me he will be needing the place for the weekend. Perfect, $270 in my pocket and $60 for Nick. I could get used to this. I pack only the clothes needed and make my way to my new bed for the weekend, his black comfy couch. I lay my shit on the floor and enjoy my new throne.
Nick and I had once roomed together in Kauai for a couple months while he looked for a place, so this was not unchartered waters for me. All morning I cleaned the place and washed sheets in preparation for my super hip barista. That night I met with the coffee go-er and laid out the ground rules for my condo, which I was illegally sub-leasing. Rules were pretty basic, don’t get me thrown out and don’t break my PS4. My hipster agreed and I handed him the keys before heading off. Nick and I decided to grab some drinks at our local bar, Over/Under, before heading back to his place. Easy enough night. Nick was gone first thing in the morning because his hotel likes to work him like a Jew. Not my style. Honestly, I’m more of the go in at noon type, you know. But before leaving I noticed Nicks brand new 37inch computer monitor that he had no password for. Because I was so thankful for Jinny Lee’s recent Airbnb realization, I figured I would pay my respects to her and crank one out to some Asian school girl porn. God bless YouJizz! After discarding of the evidence in the kitchen trash bin, I cracked open a Kraftig Light and started my day. The weekend had passed without much excitement other than a Cardinals sweep of those pesky Brewers. Take that ya queers, Anheuser-Busch runs this part of the country. Although Nick did ask why there was a used paper towel on the counter, guess I forgot the evidence during one of the countless sessions of me taking a break from the Workoholics marathon to unwind with a computer mouse and lube.
My hipster met with me and handed me my keys, I was not at all nervous to ask what he had thought of the place. He mentioned the place was fine and he had left me a coffee maker. Way to payit forward hipster. Later that day I received my first review and it was nothing but positive sayings. Move over Trump, I am about to be renting out my one bedroom hotel as if it were the fucking Four Seasons. Three days later I had received another inquiry on my apartment for the weekend. Sweet, another $270 for me with another $60 for quicky Nicky. Nick agreed as he has a habit of spending more money than he has, so he’s always in need of a couple bucks. I went through the entire process of the previous week with the cleaning and taking my clothes over to Nick’s. This was excellent. Same rules applied for the older woman attending a Marry Kay conference at the convention center. Don’t get me thrown out and don’t break my PS4. Although I did have one caveat for her. I noticed she had a bottle of perks sticking out of her purse and mentioned she should feel free to leave a couple behind as a tip if you enjoyed the place.
The weekend routine had started simple enough. Quicky and I grabbed some beers at Bobby’s before heading back up to his place. Woke up and like clockwork, Nick was gone. I did my morning ritual of sitting up on that rolling chair in front of the computer while searching through YouJizz’s recent uploads with my pants down around my ankles. Like a man. Cracked open a Krafitg Light and got ready for work. In what was another struggle in the life of a food and beverage hotelier with complaints upon complaints getting thrown my way, I received another unsatisfied guest. This time it was from Nick. I received a text saying he found another crusty paper towel on his counter….Rent just went up. The cost of doing business had just gone up to $25 a night. Still not a terrible price considering all of the horrific things his new computer had to encounter on a daily basis. Thank god that thing could not talk. I wasn’t too concerned and figured after getting a second positive review I could raise the price anyway. Once Sunday rolled around, my senior friend was very pleased and left me a positive review. Although no other goodies left behind. Guess I’ll have to buy my drugs the old fashion way.
After a couple weeks, my new founded operation was a success and the cash was flowing in. Nick was also reaping the benefits and could almost afford his douchey tee-shirt addiction. One morning, though, things turned sour. I woke up and went to my trusty rolling chair for some much needed time with a naughty ebony teacher who had caught her student cheating on his quiz. Someone needs detention! But there was no teacher or detention because that fucking Jewbag Nick had put in a password on his computer. Can you believe that guy? And to think, I was going to throw him an extra $20 for a cleanup fee on the couch. Mother fucker. Guess my three-inch iPhone screen will have to do. So I take a trip to the spank bank and get my day going. But it’s not the same when you have to hold an iPhone with one hand and your man meat in the other. This day was already starting like shit and I hadn’t even got to work yet. After pounding out a ten-hour shift I decided to get shitfaced with that Benedict Arnold, Nick, and hit the town. And by town, I mean this strip called Wash Ave which is basically a street that runs down five blocks with bars on both sides. We hit our local favorite Bobby’s before jumping through to Flannery’s Irish Pub. While knocking back cheap Bud Lights and better Schalfy's throughout the night, we decided to stumble back to his place with no women. Per the usual. Once in his complex, we thought it would be funny to take a piss in his lobby’s tree pot. I don’t know about you, but public urination is almost always funny unless there’s a school around. That could land you 5 to 10 and an awkward conversation with your future Burger King employer. While giving this tree a golden shower, I lost my balance and knocked the whole damn thing over, cracking the pot. Nick was not at all pleased and we went upstairs after scooping up some dirt back into the now cracked pot. I don’t know what Nick was so upset about, did he not realize the Liberty Bell had a crack in it. Some guys just don’t get it.
The next day, I was off, so the bender had begun as soon as I woke up from my comfy couch with a warm beer on the coffee table. After a quick trip through some recent uploads on my favorite website, I put on my freshest throwback jersey and decided to storm downtown like Normandy, one bar at a time. My conquest would take me out to the late hours of the night when I finally got back to Nick’s place. While waiting for the elevator, I noticed a 7 leaving the laundry room. Now to be fair, she was a St. Louis 7 so a Miami 5 would also be acceptable. I could write a book in itself to help you understand the equations for women based on where you are. Take for example Green Bay, a Green Bay 10 is still only a Los Angeles 5 or Atlanta 6. So everything has to be taken into perspective when identifying them with numbers. So this St. Louis 7 walks out of the laundry room, and I’m feeling pretty ballsy with some liquid courage running through my blood stream. I decided that once she left, I would use all of my stealth that I had learned in the boy scouts 20 years prior, sneak in her washer machine and snatch a pair of bra and panties, and leave them for my friend Nick. Not before sniffing them of course. The next morning I was awoken by a frazzled Nick as he had noticed my gift I had left for him. Almost like a cat who brings its dead prey over to its owner to show as a sign of gratitude, I had left the used but clean panties and bra for him on his bed. Nick was confused and asked how they had gotten here. The poor bastard thought for a second that he had sex with a woman and she left. But from the size and look of the undergarment, he knew this was from a St. Louis 6 at least and there was no way in hell he pulled that last night. So I came to his rescues and assured him he went home by himself the way he usually does, but I had taken them from his neighbor's washing machine. Not the news he was expecting and as he flung the panties in his closet and announced that rent had gone up again, $30 a night. Fuck! After some failed negotiations I had settled on $30 a night, and quicky had now implemented Martial Law. Looks like I’m going to have to lay low for a bit.
The next couple of weeks had passed, and while there were no incidents, the tension and started to grow as the weekend rentals had now parlayed into the weeknights. I was spending twenty a month on cleaning supplies, and now knew the difference between fabric softeners and had a preference for the first time in my life. Nick was also getting annoyed with his once comfy couch now branded as my home. We did still enjoy watching cops while guessing based on race what the charge would be. Glad to see some traditions don’t change. After a couple weeks, I strategically placed my dates on days I would have my one bedroom hotel not rented to get that sweet hole I needed. Listen, I enjoy my internet porn like the next man but you can’t always hang out on the practice field, dreaming of throwing that touchdown. Sometimes you need to get into the game. I was getting just enough hole to get by and made it worth it sleeping on quicky’s couch, all while racking up over 5k. But I knew the end would be coming to a screeching halt at some point. Somehow we managed to get through a couple more weeks and now had both made too much money to stop. Now I know the feeling of Scarface or that drug lord from Bad Boys II. We couldn’t stop no matter how bad we knew we needed to. Who cares that we have already made more than we ever envisioned, or could get out now with our friendship and outside life better, not having this take a toll on us. But we couldn’t, we kept going and going until one day at work when I made the decision that ended us. A busty coworker of mine was giving me some added attention the past couple of weeks and was throwing it out there, like a fly fisherman off the coast of Louisiana looking for some bass fish. Now there is some backstory to this. The city of St. Louis is small in general but the hotel scene is even more scarce. This beautiful blonde named Emilie had previously worked across the street with Nick at the competing hotel and now was in front of me on this Friday afternoon. In a cardinal red dress, with just enough cleavage showing to make me consider throwing away my future and career by grabbing her by the hair and fucking her in the office in front of all my bosses while still closing a check on the phone. Luckily for me, she saved my career and the company a couple hundred for the carpet cleaning they would need. Emily invited me for drinks after work just in time for me to gather what she said and plan my point of attack. Four thirty roles around and we figure its quitting time. I made the decision that this was not the night I wanted a DUI so I decided Emilie would drive, so we made our way to her car. Em hits the alarm to her car and a 2012 blue Honda Civic makes a noise. Not really impressed, I was hoping she would be a Jetta girl. You know they're more prone to handing out HJ’s like it’s nobody’s business. Look it up. We get in, and after the initial shockwave of Disney items everywhere, I notice it’s a stick shift. Am impressed, hopefully we're foreshadowing here. We drive down to Wash Ave before parking on a sketchy stretch, only two blocks from where were going. I’ve never been out with Emilie before, so not sure how this first drink order will go over, but it’s usually a good indication of your night to come. Emily asks for an Urban Chesnut and a shot of Fireball.
Two things to note here: A) great local beer B) nobody shoots fireball without the anticipation of fornicating or painting your face during the tailgate, and passing out with your fraternity bros while watching Florida State loose. This was shaping out to be one great night with one small exception. I was Airbnbing my place that night and was staying on Nick’s couch. The night went on, and the drinks were hitting Emily like Ben Roethlisberger hits a bathroom stall. With every drink that passed, each story become raunchier than the next, I couldn’t hold it anymore. I mention going back to Emile’s place. She apologizes for forgetting to mention to me that she lives with her parents and can’t bring people over. I pretend to go to the bathroom while calling local hotels, seeing if I can grab a room. Every hotel in the downtown area is sold out with the city volleyball tournament in town. Remember what I said about public urination rules. That would also be a weekend you might want to skip with kids in dorky shorts running all over the city. I decide to come clean and explain the situation in hopes she is down with the idea. I start by asking Emilie if she had ever heard of Airbnb. Em, being the progressive liberal she was, had heard of it and thought it was a great way for people to really travel and get an indigenous experience for where they were staying. Excited to hear her answer I agreed and explained all of the positives in staying there. I explained to her how I believed in it so much I had decided to host my place in order for people to really appreciate the show me state. St. Louis baby! It was so good I convinced myself that not only am I in this for the right reason but that I’m in the running for a Nobel Peace Prize. Emilie is excited in a progressive/skanky way. I explain to her that I am staying on Nicks couch right down the street. Angel doesn’t even bat an eye and says she wants to go upstairs. Nice, step one completed. Blonde whore excited to go back upstairs and bang on my friend’s living room comfy couch. Step two, kill more time at the bar and wait for Nick to fall sleep to give that comfy couch the action it deserves. Two more hours pass while I fight the time and the urge to fall asleep at the bar. An alarm that I set hours ago sounds, I remember the time is one in the morning and Nick should be in bed. I close the check abruptly and direct Emilie out the door. We make our way to his place while taking a prolonged elevator break only to find out she is wearing a silk thong style undergarment. Once arriving at the door I say my first silent Hail Marry in over three years. I pray that Nick is not awake and I have the chance to take Emilie to a small area, with population of two, called pound town. I open the door slowly and notice the kitchen, living room and bedroom lights off. Solid start, I’m thinking as Emilie and I hold back our laughs while crossing his room on the way to the living room. I slam her on my couch and go to my arsenal of weapons. I blast the fangs on the neck and the claw on the kitty. I’m one of the good guys so I decide to go down on my snow bunny. After following my scent, I make it to her now wet silk panties and rip them with those fangs. I like to think I did my part in causing the yells that followed. Without fail, the inevitable happened as I hear Nick yell “Evan, what the fuck man.” Instantly she replies “Nicky.” A confused and dazed Nick asks “Emilie?” "Yea," she happily replies, “how are you?" “Great Emily” “Evan, what the fuck man” I finally take a breath and look up while looking like a glazed doughnut, “we’ll leave in a bit.” Few times in life you can really find out about a man’s character. This was one of those moments that would define Nick. He simply replied “Rent just went up, $40 per night." he proclaims. I agree while inserting in Emilie. I rock her world for a solid three minutes before giving his couch a stain twenty dollars couldn’t fix. Nick like clockwork mentions it’s time for us to go. We agreed and made our way out. Funny thing about tonight, I wasn’t a one hitter quitter and was still hungry for more white pony meat. We got in her car and headed to East St. Louis at a local strip club which just got us more excited and dry humping like high school kids on the porch. When the singles had run out we finally made our way out of the club to the dawn of the morning. I knew Nick would be heading to work within the next hour. Nick had texted me and mentioned he did not want Emilie back in the house. I promised, while we stalked him from the parking lot across the street, waiting for him to exit before taking over his habitat. We started on the couch before realizing the entire place was at our disposal. We both agreed Nick’s previous actions decided his fate, so we made our way to his bed. After multiple rounds, I finish my final pumps before Emilie whispers “every single drop.” Signs of happiness splatter all over his bed and we pass out. Emilie wakes me up a couple hours later mentioning it’s time to go home and blesses me with final mouth hug before heading out. Once I say bye at the apartment door, definitely not the apartment lobby. I was way too hung over to make it down there. I think to myself, was this recent act worth the large surge in rent? In the end, it was because it didn’t matter if he ran it up to $200 a night. I would never whore my place out again and would go back to old faithful. But if you would ask me if it was worth it, I could only answer “worth every drop baby.”