Dear
Philip,
We own a small house in a beach town. At least a few times every summer, I am
“guilted” into letting someone I barely know use the house. Sometimes it’s a friend of a friend, or one
of our relatives’ friends. Last month it
was someone I know through my exercise class.
More than once, these people that my husband
and I don’t really know very well (or at all) have damaged or broken something
in the house, and either not said anything or insisted it was broken when they
got there. My husband wishes I would
stop loaning the house to “near strangers,” but nothing major has ever happened
and I feel an obligation to share the things we’re fortunate enough to
have. Am I wrong?
Soft Touch
Dear Soft,
How interesting
that you use the concepts of guilt and obligation interchangeably. (Mom?
Is that you?)
Actually, the joke
I should have made is ‘Honey, is that you?,’ because this exact argument has
gone on in my house, over a tiny place we rent.
A place where in the past year alone we’ve had to fix the washing
machine, replace one set of sheets and two bike tires, and placate an angry
neighbor. All because my bride shares
your difficulty in distinguishing guilt from obligation.
Like you, Soft, my
bride also has a generosity of spirit that is laudable…even if it can get
expensive. Like you, she’s right that
good fortune comes with an obligation to be generous. The problem you both seem to have is with understanding
the prudent limits of that obligation.
Take a step back,
and think about the folks you and your husband consider good friends. Would any of them treat your house carelessly
or just walk away from any damage they might accidentally do while staying in
it? Didn’t think so. That’s part of why they’re your friends: they
share your values. If one of them were
to leave the upstairs tub to overflow, and then insist that the water damage in
your kitchen ceiling was already there, that friendship would likely be over
before the estimate for ripping out the plasterboard came in.
Your assumptions
about values shouldn’t extend to the relatives of your friends, or folks who
work out on the next mat over, though.
Neither should your sense of obligation when it comes to doling out the
use of your home.
Last summer,
Christina was introduced to the cousin of a friend of hers at a cookout. The cousin had absolutely no problem – once
Christina had let on that we’d be skipping a weekend at the beach because of an
obligation at home – asking if she could use our place. Put on the spot, Christina said, “Of
course.” The cousin proceeded to invite
another woman and her children along…and then to shove every towel the kids
used over the weekend into the washing machine.
At the same time. Though it
probably put up a hell of a fight, the overloaded appliance died somewhere
during the spin cycle. Here’s the exact
message we got: “Your washing machine
isn’t working.”
The punch line is
that when Christina’s friend found out what happened, she said, “Why on earth
would you loan your place to her?”
Which suggests a
rule of thumb, Soft: when it comes to sharing things of real value, put your
faith in your friends.
As for getting
cornered by a relative stranger (or the relative of a friend, for that matter)
asking to borrow your house, look at it this way: would you ever have – what’s
a polite word here? – the chutzpah to
do that? Of course you wouldn’t, so have
no qualms about following my one-word advice when dealing with such
people. Lie. Lie like the rug they’d probably ruin without
telling you: “So sorry, the house is spoken for, that weekend. Actually, we’re full up all summer.”
Yours in not
overloading major appliances,
Philip
