Good and Bad Guests

July 3, 2015

     Annie Tempest's comic strip in Country Life, "Tottering By Gently", is among my favorites.  "Dickie" and "Daffy"  are a no-longer-young couple who live in a large pile in the English countryside.  They are a stereotype of elderly country types, who drink too much wine, whose three dogs sleep in the bed with them, and who are utterly removed from what goes on in London, even when they are there on a visit to Dickie's club.

     One of the memorable cartoon strips is about a bad guest, a fellow who drinks everything in sight and never stops talking about nothing of great interest.  By the end of his stay, Dickie and Daffy's eyes reveal their real feelings about their guest, notwithstanding the veneer of bonhomie they feel obliged to keep up.

      Recent visitors gave me reason to remember the cartoon, and to analyze why I was so grateful at they departure.  In considering what irritated me, I realized that the series of maladdresses that characterized their visit are far from specific to them, but shared by many of my countrymen.  As we approach the celebration of Independence Day, I offer my observations in apposition (but not opposition) to the generalized love of individual freedom that is quintessentially American.

      First off, my visitors found the towels, robes and slippers I laid out on their bed not to their taste, and served themselves to my private stock;

      Secondly, my visitors took over my kitchen, cooking what they bought and liked, making their own coffee and in doing the latter, damaging my coffee maker;

      Third, my visitors camped on my upholstery, pushing chairs against the wall and leaving marks, as well as putting their sneakered feet on the sofa;

      Fourth, my friends like drinking wine, consider themselves conoisseurs and pressed me to drink with them, despite my demurrals;

       Fifth, knowing full well that I am a practicing "Roman", one of them lectured me about the logical connection between the celibate life Roman Catholic priests are asked to live and the pedophilia scandals in the Church;

       Sixth, one of my visitors took her companion sternly to task in front of me on two occasions, airing dirty linen in public;

       Seventh, at home, in the living room, my guests spent their time checking their e-mails, playing computer games, and contacting the office, all right in front of me, rather than in their rooms;

       Eighth, my guests sought to persuade me to buy a property near them, a property belonging to friends of theirs;

       Ninth, one of them made unwelcome inquiries as to my financial situation;

       Tenth, they never spoke of anything other than themselves, their deals, their amazing trips and their well-connected friends.  What they wanted to do when with me was drink, eat and shop limitlessly without regard to the realities of the French countryside, with its modest possibilities.  And during their stay, they made me various gifts (a belt, a shopping cart's worth of food when we were at the supermarket) --a not-so-subtle way of letting me know that they thought that by doing so, they had settled their account completely.

        My friends had a wonderful time.  They ate omelettes with truffles (the latter provided by me), game (ditto),  and charcuterie made by master butchers.  They drank and bought great wines, took home table linens and clothes.  They visited a chateau run by acquaintances of mine and offered to make them a connection with someone who might be interested in importing the " biologic" wine made there.  If my acquaintances take up the offer, one of my guests will be the middleman.

         Yesterday I sent my friends on their way to the hotel on the Cote d'Azur I recommended when they consulted me about their trip.  They also left  with a reservation I'd made for them at the best restaurant within an hour's drive, La Table de Fontfroide, at the abbey of the same name.  

          Of course,  I got a one line e-mail thanking me as soon as lunch ended, sent from an iPhone while they were on the road towards what would be a considerably more luxurious experience consistent with their expectations of France.

          A one line e-mail "Thank You" note --"Magnifique! The Abbey was awesome!  Off to St. Maxime.  So many thanks for your hospitality!-- will have to do.  They are such busy people.