The castle that wasn't

They both looked at me in the big full of disco lights bar. I didn’t get a: you look good, but that dress is nice and sexy. Which made me feel cheap and no owner should ever say that to someone working for him. Though I knew his character, once his new girlfriend was gone his atmosphere changed. He was like this.

It was just all too bad. I didn't expected this was the castle I would be treated as a princess (and if so, I wouldn't ever act like one, still: . . .) Especially when you feel more like a friend or one of the boys when it comes to connection, talking and humor, it is just too bad.

So, I stayed true to myself. To this around two meter castle owner, with his longer grey hair often which seemed uncombed or unwashed. I gave him my truth.
Which actually made our conversation finally better and more interesting.
George Carlins: “Women are crazy, men are stupid. The reason women are crazy is because men are stupid”, made him not only laugh but also agree. He said that he told some of his male friends once to work on this matter. That they have to do something about themselves as men.
Even if some men seem distant themself so much from the woman, they actually came out of one onto this planet.
To acknowledge that there too often still is a problem is a very good start for change.

I was happy his girlfriend left. I am not and never was interested in him. It’s hard to understand why she looked me with eyes that check and that of distrust. Look at him angry, is what I think. I could take it as a compliment, but some women I just wish to connect with. Feels so uncomfortable. But I was happy she left, because conversation happened. And I love myself some of those. 
(The women who do let their men talk to me, know I stand up for them and make their men aware of their flaws. It's has given, from both sides, laughter.)

So: Once I stayed at this Airbnb. Not one room or one house, but with the name castle in it. With many rooms I took care of twice two years ago. First some two weeks, working hard but just for two or three hours a day. Making the beds, doing the washings, cleaning the kitchen and such, washing some more, welcoming sometimes some people if someone else was busy and mostly . . .  yes some more washing.

Later I worked here about 1,5 weeks cleaning 5 hours a day. The dust mites got to me. After a short week or so, the allergies made my health weak. Still I wasn't as weak as a week ago when I stayed for some days.

I haven't made use of the sauna or jacuzzi... but what is luxurious for most, isn't often for me. Besides it is better when there's snow and the temperatures were high this time, making a hay fever celebration in my body.
I was extremely exhausted. My body so tired of many things that I could hardly work. But he, the owner with the exclusive personality, didn’t force me to work at all. I could still stay for free and it made me feel guilty. I do not have a low responsibility feeling. 

There I stood behind the bar. The castle owner just put me there without hearing any of my excuses. I have stood more often behind a bar, but always with less drinks, especially strong drinks I do not know anything about. I do not drink and never drank at all. But soon I felt this was a work I could truly enjoy.

When an Indian couple, after also inviting me for a soup earlier that day, that wasn't spicy according to them but for me it was, wanted to have a drink at the bar later, I told all the people staying that I could find to come at 7 pm.
We were eventually inclusive myself with eleven people. We took the chairs together and talked. I tried to put on less dance, modern pop music.

I love being a hostess, making things cozy and energetic at the same time.
Though my brain often makes overtime by all these conversations and atmospheres. Such opposite ideas people can have about life and how people sometimes find it hard to believe someone elses own life experiences. All the feelings are thrown out or can be seen near the surface. For me at least. Like 'Monk' (in the series) says: it's a gift and a curse.

The goodbye. I gave a, what I call and remember as a Brazilian hug: short and kind with a pat on the back. After last conversation Mister Castle-owner doubted if that was okay. It was a short friendly hug. . . .  Why do some men not get the difference? Though asking is never wrong. On the contrary. 

But after this if you’re still confused: 

Then days changed and I had the most expensive coffee in this world. But that’s for your next coffee or tea moment.