Tumbling dies my spirit: the world of Airbnbs
The big dog was waiting for me in the kitchen. I did not know his or her name, breed, or temperament. I only knew that it was a shock to see a dog there. "Aaaaaahh!" I screamed, racing into the downstairs bathroom, calling out to the owner who was not visible: "Get your dog! Leash your dog!" A guy comes out, looking pissed at me. "What? Why are you yelling at me?" "Because your dog is not on a leash!" He starts waving his finger at me, "Shut up, shut up, lady. Dogs are allowed here. Shut up!" Just another fun day when you are, more or less, living at Airbnbs. I spoke to the host, who seemed great at first. I told her I'd been bitten in the rear by a dog at 16, after leaving the old folks' home, where I'd gone to play piano. "That's awful," she said, showing real compassion. "I don't blame you at all for yelling." Then today she sent me the text this guy sent, accusing me of yelling at him, demand...