We were two baby-boomers in a pick-up truck loaded with furniture, and a cooler packed with sandwiches when we set out for the Maritimes in early September. It was a road trip with the plan to stop wherever we found ourselves in at day’s end. We made one reservation for an apartment in Halifax with Airbnb, the home rental service that has been embraced by millennials.

We had a lean budget and desire for extra living space for the three days we would be helping my daughter move in Halifax, so Airbnb was the solution.
We found a one-bedroom apartment available for our dates, but the process required approval from the owner. I was asked to send my photo, and when I showed reluctance I was told it was so the greeter would recognize me upon arrival.
The owner approved my booking and then a series of emails of friendly reminders began. En route we were texted by the owner who requested an ETA for his greeter.
Upon arrival in Halifax, the apartment building door was open so I went straight to the apartment. No one came to the door, so I waited in the hall. I just waited, with no selfie to mark the occasion.
A woman came flying off the elevator, smiled and walked past me, opening the door to the apartment. I called the name of the greeter and it was she, so she came back out for our introductions. I refrained from questioning how she didn’t recognize me?
The draw to Airbnb is because it feels like being home. The apartment was quite nice but it was unquestionably a rental unit. They left us coffee and tea, bagels and fruit, and at no point did we capture the memories of eating said bagels to post on instagram.
The location was perfect for us, yet it didn’t occur to us to announce that on Facebook.
Once we checked out we got bombarded with emails asking to post feedback about the apartment on line. We were in jeopardy of missing the deadline to share our experience. We were told that the owner would not see our review until after he submitted a review about us. Then we were told he gave us a favourable review.
This boomer was shocked. A follow-up might have been fine, but the barrage of emails was not. I did not care to be rated, nor share my whereabouts with the world.
We had more than a week of travelling ahead. I couldn’t imagine dealing with that after every night in a hotel. If there was something spectacular to report I understand sharing that information, but being coerced into a comment (read - compliment) reeks of manipulation.
Social media attempts to make mundane experiences into ‘events.’ It was overnight accommodations. I got what I paid for.
Couldn’t we have left it at that?