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Stories in the life of a B&B Owner
Stories in the life of a B&B Owner
Despite both working in hospitality for a number of years, I am not sure whether my wife or I were prepared for the roller coaster of a life that owning our own Bed and Breakfast was going to bring. From a young age both Liz and I had worked in hotel and restaurant chains, Liz on the housekeeping side of things and me (Sc0tt) on the food and drink side.
In our mid twenties, we had the opportunity of looking after a Bed & Breakfast, for what we thought was going to be a couple of weeks. Liz, my wife, was on maternity leave with our 8 week old daughter, when a friend asked if we could look after her business until she could make arrangements to sell it. So on a Sunday afternoon in November, we packed a few bags and left our house with our seven year old daughter and our new born baby.
At that time I worked in a hotel in Newcastle looking after a Restaurant, Nightclub and two bars, but between us we agreed that we could run the B&B at the same time. As I worked at night, Liz would see to the Kids and guests…. Simple! Well not quiet… the challenges soon started.
Liz phoned me at work one evening. She had checked in a little old lady into a single room who said she wanted to stay for a week. Shortly after going to her room she came downstairs and said she was unhappy with the size of her wardrobe. It was a single room and therefore had a single wardrobe. “The wardrobe was insufficient for someone who was staying a week. I need a double wardrobe” she snarled at Liz. Remember it was in the early days, Liz wanted to please all the guests, by going the extra mile. “What should I do?” she asked me. I said “Just explain the situation and say that’s how it is, single room, single wardrobe”, “I have already done that and she is not happy…I’m going to move a double wardrobe from another room to there” Liz responded.
Shocked at what Liz was planning “You’re kidding, you are going to move a double wardrobe up and down stairs to her room? You’re mad, do not do it” I replied. “I’m going to just to keep her happy” she said and put down the phone.
Bearing in mind Liz would have to drag the single wardrobe out of the room down a set of stairs then up a set of stairs and then do the same with a double wardrobe, I expected another call saying I can’t do it so I have moved her room. The call never came.
I got in late that night about 2am, Liz was asleep and I did not want to wake her to find out what had happened. In the morning we got up to prepare breakfast and she told me the carry on with the woman. Through sheer determination and assistance from her Sister, who lived down the street, they had managed to move the wardrobes around. As Liz described the antics of this demanding little old lady, I was preparing to challenge her at breakfast. ‘Give her a piece of mind, I was.’
Shortly after, this dainty and glamourous little lady walked into the dinning room greeting me with a big smile and a courteous “Good Morning young man”. Immediately, my plan to give her a bit of a dressing down, dissolved. I sat her down at a table adjacent to a workman who was already tucking into his hearty English Breakfast. I asked the lady if she would like tea or coffee and directed her to help herself to cereal which was displayed on a dressing table in the corner of the dinning room. I said I would return and take her breakfast order.
So into the kitchen I went to prepare her tea, “Bless” I said to Liz, “That’s not what you were saying last night…..you wanted me to turf her out on the street for being so cheeky!” she replied, “now do you see why I wanted to move the wardrobe?”, “Yeah, ok. I’m with you on that one…still not sure how you managed to navigate the wardrobes though.”
I went back into the dining room with a pot of tea and the lady was engaged in deep conversation with the workman, discussing his job and where he was working. As I popped the tea on the table, I saw that the lady had a bowl full of muesli, on her spoon swimming in milk was an acorn and what looked like a brown twig. I returned to the kitchen to collect a check pad to take her order. “Have you brought some new muesli?” I asked Liz,
“No she replied “why?”
“Coz that little old lady is crunching on acorns and I’m sure there is a subtle peach smell”
“That’s the new bloody pot-puri! I just put fresh peach oil on it yesterday!”
“No way…it’ll poison her” we nervously laughed, but we were concerned about the consequences.
I returned to the dining room. I don’t know what possessed me but I asked how was the pot-puri…. Sorry the muesli? She replied “Very crunchy” as she spooned another mouthful. I took her breakfast order and carried on as normal.
We kept a close eye on her for the next couple of days worried that she may have a delayed reaction, but thankfully she was fine. We did notice that a pleasant waft of peach essence followed her wherever she went!
Liz, being the business woman she was even asked me if we should charge her extra for the pot-puri breakfast seeing as we had just brought it! Thank goodness they brought out plug -ins, at least you can’t mistake them for muesli.