House Swap

Hey Dudes,

Sorry Margo and I didn’t get back to your emails or phone messages right away -- we were having such a blast in your home. So glad you guys decided to swap houses with us! This is the awesomest vacation we’ve ever had. The two of us agree we’ll never go through a house finder again. Better to just set it up the way we did ourselves and save all that money, wouldn’t you agree? God bless Twitter for bringing us together.

Now, to address those issues you raised in your ten emails:

First, I am not sure why you keep insisting we misled you about the location of our house with regard to the beach.  Maybe you have a different definition of “within walking distance” from ours.  Margo and I consider anything up to five miles to be like, totally walkable. In our estimation, too many Americans don’t move around on their feet enough, and that’s why there’s this obesity epidemic. To be honest, now that we’re in your home and seeing photos of you guys, we think you could stand to perambulate a little more. So enjoy that hike to the beach! (You might want to avoid “Boxville” That’s where the last couple we swapped with disappeared.) When you get there, don’t worry  about the “Private Beach -- No Public Access” signs you’ll see on that gate. Look around, make sure no one sees you, then simply climb over -- the barbed wire isn’t always electrified!

Second, we’re sorry you had trouble finding the hot tub. Our bad! We forgot to tell you it’s in the neighbor’s yard. Just go over there while they’re at work and enjoy your time in the bubbles! Please be considerate and take any “roaches” and bottles back with you. The nabes came over after our first time and asked if we’d seen anyone using their tub.  Speaking of neighbors, you’ll be glad to know that we handled yours, and  most excellently,  when they complained about our partying. No, no -- we didn’t threaten them--ROFL! We just invited them over and plopped them down in front of your TV with that video the two of you made of your last bondage session. We’ve watched it like a half dozen times ourselves. Very hot! The pink leash episode, especially.

Next. It sounds like you encountered our little pet, Atat. Isn’t he cute? But there’s something you should know about him. He doesn’t like being called a “rat.” He’s very sensitive about that, which is probably why he was standing up on his hind legs and showing you his teeth, like you described in email No.  8. But he’ll get over that if you feed him a little brie. In fact, he’ll probably want to snuggle up with you two while you watch that old three-channel Dumont of ours.

I’m skimming through the rest of your emails because I can hear tonight’s party guests arriving and I should clean up after fixing the door to your wine cellar. Did you know it wouldn’t open? No problem--it does now. Margo and I salute your taste in reds, especially that 1945 Chateau Mouton-Rothschild jeroboam.

I do have to bring up one negative thing: Margo was very hurt by your remark that our house was “filthy” when you arrived. She’s proud of the way that she keeps the house in an eco-friendly manner. In her opinion, it’s far healthier to cohabit with a little dirt than it is to inhale noxious chemicals. But up to you. The local supermarket carries lots of cleaning products similar to the ones we’ve seen in the closet here in your home. We are OK with you using them in our house while you’re there, but we prefer to let nature take its course while we’re in yours.

 One last thing: there’s a slight problem with the locks on your house. We made a copy of the keys for a new friend we met in a bar who turned out to be wanted in Utah for gun-running. So, of course we did the responsible thing and had the locks changed. But then we went and lost those keys. Double bad on us! So we’ve had to leave the house open for the last few days, but don’t worry-- nothing has gone missing yet except that sex tape. And we’ll be sure the place is locked up tight when we leave. All you have to do is call the locksmith when you get here. Have a safe trip home!
      
Polly Frost's new book, "With One Eye Open," is a collection of 25 of her humor pieces. Her website is http://pollyfrost.com.

April 19: "What you see first, after the starting gun's crack, is a column of bobbing runners, thousands of them, surging downhill..."

Donna Tartt's The Goldfinch is the winner of the 2014 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction. James Parker calls this Dickensian coming-of-age novel "an enveloping…

advertisement
Books, CDs, DVDs to know about now
Poems That Make Grown Men Cry

And women too.  Luminaries from Colin Firth to Nick Cave and Jonathan Franzen chose the poems that bring them to tears, and the result is a stunning collection of poignant verse from writers like Auden, Whitman, Bishop, Larkin, Neruda and many others.  Warning: choking-up hazard.

The King of Pain

Trapped beneath his entertainment system, reality TV mastermind Rick Salter reflects on his life and tries to piece together the events of the previous evening. Seth Kaufman’s romp is an outrageous meditation on pain and entertainment in a deranged world in which the two are often interchangeable.

The Good Inn

Frank Black, frontman for the Pixies, has written a transgressive historical fiction with shades of Thomas Pynchon (focused as it is on the history of explosives and cinematic pornography), all set in a hallucinatory Edwardian Europe.