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The house sleeps TWELVE!

I am taking a guess that this potential guest comes from a culture where women are 2nd class citizens… and he didn’t like me saying NO…anyway - so sad, too bad - he wont be staying with me!

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Hey, John, good work! And oh, btw, I always get a kick out of your input- straight and to the point. :joy:

You mean Greg Abbott’s Texas? :stuck_out_tongue_closed_eyes:


Many years ago I had guests from a different culture. It was one of the rare times I was on property & could meet the guests. The husband greeted me then stood as his wife handled ALL communication with me.

I warned them there was a huge motorcycle event to the south. If they wanted to do anything in that area, go early & plan to leave by 2:00-3:00 when the partiers started getting active.

To avoid the partiers stay in my area or go north.

Husband decided I didn’t know anything so they stayed until 5:00 enjoying IMAX, Aquarium, go carts etc.

The trip back to the condo took 2x-3x time as it should have. Their 12 year old son was treated to a multitude of bare butts on motorcycles. (Young girls have figured out they can get around the local “no thongs” ordinance by wearing a skirt that blows up like a tiny tutu when on the back of the bike.)

The wife told me the husband was very unhappy with the partiers’ behavior & the traffic. She loved telling him, “Well Anne told us it would be this way…”


You’re such a helper!!

Keep being you. It’s much more fun that way. Well, at least it’s fun watching from the cheap seats! :popcorn: :wine_glass: :eyes:



Women are considered second class citizens in this country. It’s not just other cultures. You don’t have to look very far to see evidence of that.


Once they start insisting what MY rules are, I’m done. Experience says that they will be a problem…


Before I moved to my island at the beach I had a 100 year old home on 75 acres in NW Pennsylvania. Good old boy country for sure. When I decided to sell, because the upkeep was getting more than I could handle, I made the decision to have a 3 day estate sale as the best way to expedite my move. Among the many items I was selling were a full size Case tractor with 14 implements including a backhoe, log splitter, snow plow, gang mower and so on. And yes, I used all of them. I had a snowmobile, two four wheelers, riding mowers and a massive collection of duplicate tools.

I am a widow, 14 years now. My (male) cousin came out to help me because there was an overwhelming amount to deal with. I cannot tell you how frustrating it was trying to deal with all the men who refused to accept that a woman was in charge of selling tractors and four-wheelers. They insisted on talking to my cousin and he kept telling them, the lady is in charge. Some of them just refused to deal and left empty handed. It was a real eye opener.


A classic example of misogynistic fuckwittery.

Well done you for getting through it.

Here in good old España, my OH and I have clearly defined roles in our business. I deal with the practical shit, she deals with the money (mainly because I’d spend it all on classic blues vinyl and Oloroso :rofl:).

On more than one occasion over the years we’ve had scenarios with contractors where I discuss the job, then pass them over to her to sort the price out. They sort of look and go “Eh?”, as in how come I have to negotiate with a woman?

I’ve perfected a shrug, that essentially says “Por dinero, ella es la jefa pero yo uso los pantalones”.




When I built my house here, and was going to be my own building contractor, a friend who had a construction business here put together a crew for me- they had worked on his sister’s house.

The first thing he did was put together a meeting of himself, me, and the crew and when we all sat down around the table, he said, “Ok, the first thing we need to know here is, are you going to have a problem taking orders from a woman?”

They all sort of looked a bit uncomfortable, but nodded. My friend said, “No, I need to hear you say it-I won’t have a problem taking orders from her.” They did say it then.

It was a little bit challenging, and there was one guy who had his knickers in a knot from the start, and showed a bit of attitude, because he had been demoted from head mason to just another mason, after he proved not up to the job on my friend’s sister’s place.

But I was working alongside the crew, wheelbarrowing dirt and rocks around, tarring the foundations, etc, which was something they’d never experienced before- you just never see women doing things like that in Mexico, at least where I live.

So they actually showed a lot of respect for me and even though I was hard on them sometimes (“What are you doing, Alejandro? Leaning on your shovel waiting for the laborer to mix up the cement? Sorry, I don’t pay guys to lean on their shovel- go stack up all those cement blocks that are scattered all around”), they ended up really liking working for me, and one invited me to his wedding, which was a hoot.


I had a LTR tenant who was a medically retired state trooper. He would go around me and call my husband or our handyman instead of coming to me. I finally booted him based on his misogynistic sh@t after several talks with him about calling me instead of my husband or the handyman.


Not quite eh Deb? Yes it is ‘bye felicia’ in your example but more commonly it is a casual farewell to a friend or acquaintance; a contraction of ‘see ya later’. All about context. See ya Deb :kissing_heart:

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Shall we get into the multiple uses of
“You Bastard “……?


Not without audio 202020


I have a former guest who I declined his future rental booking for this crap.


Up until now Muddy I thought you were a bloke. This changes everything.

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Haha. Interesting. That construction job on my house is actually how I came up with my handle of “muddy”.

One day when I arrived at the building site in the morning, about an hour after the crew started the day’s work, the guys were unusually quiet. Normally they’d be talking and joking around and singing. I didn’t know if they were upset with me for some reason or what.

So I just walked around and looked at what each if them was working on, making a few comments or giving instructions, when I suddenly turned around to see a giant cheesecake poster tacked up on the wall of a naked woman covered in mud. I said “Oh!!!” and all the guys burst out laughing- they’d been just waiting for me to notice it.

One of the young construction workers who had a crush on me had brought it and tacked it up, because I was always in my work clothes and got pretty filthy during the course of a work day.

It was all in good fun.


Which country do you mean? I’m from the UK so I don’t know anything at all about women being second class citizens. Aren’t people only oppressed because they allow themselves to be?

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Good heavens. You mean in the UK women earn exactly the same that men do for the same job? You mean they’re not assaulted and raped and then disbelieved? You mean they have complete dominion over their bodies? If so, I’m coming to the UK.


I came to Florida. For the weather.

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