I’m in my mid-twenties when I decide to join the Couchsurfing community and host travelers visiting my city. For those of you who don’t know Couchsurfing: it’s a platform through which one can find a place to stay with a local when travelling instead of staying at a hotel. It’s a bit like Airbnb, but unlike Airbnb, you don’t have to pay for the room. Still, many guests bring a small gift from their country or hometown, cook dinner, or invite the host to a few drinks at a local pub to show their gratitude.

I’m still a university student living in a shabby flat, but it’s in the city centre and I have a small living room and an air mattress I can offer to surfers. 

Most of the time, it’s a fun experience and the people I meet are great, but sometimes… well. Below are some of the stranger things that have happened to me while hosting surfers.

One time, I host a young woman from East Asia who is traveling Europe and requests to stay at my place for two nights. When she arrives at my place, she jumps at the sight of my dog, who she didn’t expect to be there, even though two of my three profile pictures are photos of my dog and I mention him several times in my profile.

She is obviously scared of dogs, so I ask her if she will be okay staying at my place and offer to help her find a new host if she wants to stay somewhere else. She says it’s fine, but for the two and a half days she stays with me, I have to call my dog and hold him by his collar whenever she needs to go to the bathroom or the kitchen because otherwise, she won’t leave the living room.

But of course, she doesn’t call me when she has to leave the room because that would be too simple. No, she opens the door, sticks out her head to look around, shrieks when she sees my dog, who likes to sleep on the tiles in the hall because it’s summer and really hot outside, and quickly closes the door again.

After a few seconds, she opens the door again and repeats the whole procedure. She keeps doing this until I notice her desperate attempt to leave the living room — which sometimes takes a few minutes — and call my dog.  

In the morning before I go to work, she asks through the closed door if I can lock the dog up in the bedroom during the day, so she feels safe. I politely refuse and suggest she go out and do some sightseeing or shopping while I am at work, which she does. 

Another time, I host a German university student who is visiting my city to attend a conference. She seems nice and normal when she arrives, and we have a very passionate conversation about traveling, literature, and philosophy over a glass of wine when she returns from the conference.

The next morning, I enter my living room and find her taking at least five of my books off my bookshelf and stuffing them into her luggage. When I ask her what she is doing, she simply replies, “Oh, you told me about those books last night and got me totally interested, so I wanted to read them, too.”

She isn’t even embarrassed about getting caught stealing my books and just sits there as I take them out of her suitcase and place them back on the shelf. I then stand next to her until she finishes packing, making sure nothing else catches her interest.

I also host an architecture student from Southern Europe, who is a very polite and respectful guest. It’s the afternoon of the third day of his stay and I want a cup of coffee. On my way to the kitchen, I walk past the living room door, which is wide open, and I decide to offer him a cup of coffee, too.

But when I take a look into the room, I see my guest sitting on the couch wearing only boxer briefs, a towel placed around his neck, his hair still damp. A bit embarrassed, I quickly turn around and apologize for barging in on him like that and explain that I came to ask if he wanted some coffee. He says he would love some coffee and I go to the kitchen, my face red like a firetruck.

About ten minutes later, I return to the living room with two coffees, expecting him to be dressed by now. This time, I ask if it’s okay to come in before entering — just to be safe. He tells me to enter and… he’s still in the same spot wearing nothing but boxer briefs. He thanks me for the coffee and, before I can retreat, starts a conversation about how much he liked one of the museums I recommended.

So, there I am, awkwardly standing in the middle of my tiny living room, having a cup of coffee and a conversation about expressionist art with a naked stranger sitting on my couch.

I work at the front desk at a hotel on the night shift. We have a cupboard where guests can buy food. It has some frozen meals, but we don’t carry frozen pizza. A few guests ask once in a while, but, usually, guests will just order a pizza if they want one or go to the store that’s literally right next door and buy one.

One night, I come in, do my standard shift opening duties, and a guest comes down to the cupboard and asks if we have any frozen pizza. I tell him sorry, we do not, but [Pizza Chain] is up the street and if he doesn’t care for that, there are three other chains that can deliver to our hotel until 1:00 am. Or, the store next door is open twenty-four hours. He goes upstairs disappointed. 

About an hour later, when all is quiet, I take my dinner — leftover homemade pizza — to the break room, heat it up, and go back to the office where I can eat and also be available to jump onto the front desk if need be.

But, as I pass by the front desk to get to the office, I see the same guy standing at the counter and I put down my food and go see what he needs. It goes downhill from there.

Guest: “I thought you didn’t have pizza!” 

Me: “We don’t. That’s my personal pizza I brought from home. What can I do to help you?” 

He gets super upset and starts demanding that I either, a) give him my pizza, or b) pay for his pizza that he was going to order.

Me: “I can do neither of those things, but, if you have a problem, you can always contact my general manager or sales specialist and suggest we put frozen pizza in the pantry.”

Guest: “That’s a useless option, since I don’t stay here all the time, and I never will anymore because you don’t have freaking frozen pizza!”

This hotel only serves breakfast. In Israel, a lot of things close Friday afternoon due to the Shabbat. I’m the receptionist. The guest has been staying in the hotel for a few days now.

Guest: “I’d like to have dinner tonight here at the hotel.”

Me: “I’m sorry, the kitchen is closed and we don’t have dinner. I can recommend restaurants that are open or a shop where you can get food that is within walking distance.”

At that moment, a coworker comes and brings me a little takeaway box with my dinner: cold leftover food from breakfast that is for the employees.

Guest: “What is that? I also want food.”

Me: “I’m sorry, that is some cold food and my only dinner; I’m here until 11:00 pm and I don’t really have a break to go get myself anything else.”

Guest: “So share it with me.”

Me: “No, that is all I have to eat.”

Guest: “Are there any more of those boxes? “

Me: “There are enough boxes exactly for the employees.No spares.”

Guest: “Call the other employees and see if they will give me their dinner.”

Me: “I will not be doing that. People at work need to eat and are counting on this food.”

The guest turns to other people waiting for a taxi.

Guest: “You see this? The employees get to eat but the guests don’t!”

As the guest is leaving, one of the people waiting for the taxi turns to me.

Other Guest: “Now you can definitely say you’ve seen it all!”

I am just getting on shift at check-in time.

Supervisor: “Can you please go through the arrivals [paperwork] and make sure they’re all here?”

This means to make sure all the paperwork is printed out for the guests that haven’t checked in.

Me: “But if they’re in the arrivals, then that means they’re not here!”

My supervisor laughed at that longer than I expected.

I’m the breakfast attendant at a hotel restaurant. We normally start serving breakfast at 6:30 am, but I always come in a little earlier to set out the dry/cold foods for the early birds. I usually finish around 6:00, but the hot foods always come out at 6:30.

This isn’t an issue most of the time; customers are informed as they’re checking in that breakfast starts at 6:30, and they’re just grateful to have something if they leave a half-hour before then.

One day, however, one customer decides he isn’t too happy with that. This happens about ten minutes after 6:00.

Customer: “Excuse me, can you tell me when the hot foods will be ready?”

Me: “Oh, sorry, sir. They’ll be ready in about fifteen minutes. Feel free to help yourself to anything that’s already out and we’ll have the hot foods ready soon.”

Customer: *Angry* “That is not acceptable. You have everything else; where are your hot foods?”

Me: “Breakfast normally starts at 6:30, but I always come in a little early to set up so our customers who leave earlier than that can still grab a quick bite.”

Customer: “Is this how you run your hotel? By denying service to your guests?”

Me: “No, sir. I’m sorry for the inconvenience. If you’d like, I can head back to the kitchen and see if anything is ready yet.”

Customer: “No, don’t bother.”

The customer walks away. I breathe a sigh of relief, thankful that he hasn’t thrown a complete tantrum. Boy, am I in for a surprise.

Two minutes later, as I’m setting the tables, I hear yelling at the front desk. It’s the guy.

Customer: “…horrible customer service! That kid should be fired! He treated me like trash and refused to serve me food after I asked!”

Coworker: “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

My coworker sees me and waves me over.

Coworker: “I’ll help you two resolve this issue.”

Customer: “I don’t want to talk to that punk anymore! I want him fired!”

Me: “I’m sorry you felt your service was inadequate, but I did offer to let you have the food that’s already out. And our cook will be done with the hot food soon, so if you want to wait—”

Customer: “No! You can’t make me wait! That’s not how a choice hotel is supposed to be run! Where’s the manager?”

Coworker: “Please calm down, sir. Our manager isn’t in this early, but—”

Customer: “Forget it. I want to check out. And you’d better not charge me for my room.”

Coworker: “I can’t remove the charge for your room without my manager’s approval. You’re welcome to file a formal complaint and we will pass it along to the manager when he gets in.”

He wordlessly writes a complaint on a piece of paper that my coworker gives him.

Customer: “Thank you.” *Looks at me* “See? That’s how good customer service is done.”

He walks away without checking out.

Coworker: “Don’t worry. I think you did well.”

Later that day, my manager sided with me and did not comp the man’s room when he checked out. The man came back down for hot food a couple of hours after he made a scene, but he did not make eye contact with me or interact with me in any way.