I Was Born With a Resting Bitch Face – Chapter 4 – Be My Guest

I’m an only child.

My parents came from big families. So did my grandparents.

And when I say big, I mean five to seven kids was perfectly normal.

Apparently, not for me.

But that’s fine.

I never had siblings to share my room with.

I had cousins. Aunts. Sometimes family friends.

And when guests arrived, my room was no longer my room.

Because where I grew up, guests got the best.

The best bedroom.

The best food.

The best sheets. Preferably brand-new.

The good towels nobody had ever used because they were too good to use.

Yes, we had towels specifically for people who didn’t live in our house.

Don’t ask.

And when your guests came from another city, and you happened to live near the sea, their visit wasn’t necessarily a weekend.

They were on vacation.

Two weeks? Wonderful.

Three? Why not?

You, of course, were not on vacation.

You were working.

And suddenly you had a second job.

Actually, several.

Hotel manager.

Tour guide.

Chef.

Housekeeper.

Grocery delivery service.

Entertainment coordinator.

And a full-time specialist in removing sand from places where sand had absolutely no business being.

Seriously.

How does it get into the beds?

Every morning, fresh breakfast.

Every afternoon, something for lunch.

Dinner? Of course.

Something fresh. Something homemade. Something everybody likes.

And don’t forget to entertain your guests.

They came to enjoy the sea!

You can’t just leave them sitting there.

Meanwhile, you still have your actual job.

Your bills.

Your laundry.

Your life.

And somebody has used the last clean towel.

Again.

Still want to smile?

Here’s the funny part.

This is exactly when we smiled.

Not necessarily because we wanted to.

Because we had guests.

And you had to be a good host.

You could be exhausted, annoyed, wondering when you’d get your bedroom back, and still ask:

“Would you like some more?”

With a smile.

And if they said yes?

Of course!

Let me get that for you.

Apparently, my resting bitch face came with a hospitality setting.

I didn’t particularly enjoy using it.

But I knew exactly where the switch was.

Be my guest.

Just don’t ask me why I’m not smiling when you finally leave.