From the Book (1)
From Chapter 1 - A Noble Occupation
A version of chapter 1 was previously published in the Newsletter of the Professional Association of Innkeepers International.
Of all the occupations I’ve engaged in—soldier, teacher, freelance writer, news reporter, newspaper publisher, magazine editor—the title I relish most is innkeeper. The word has an agreeable warmth about it, calling up a rotund, ruddy-cheeked proprietor full of convivial mirth, ready to offer a snug haven to weary travelers. It evokes a fireplace and flagons of ale and cheerful guests sharing tales around a table laden with food.
Though such an image is romanticized, it’s not entirely inaccurate. There’s something grand about being a host and considerable satisfaction to be found in providing service to folks in pursuit of respite. People need escapes and, as an innkeeper, you provide them; if you do your job right, you give your guests, for a few days at least, a home away from home without the burden of responsibility and with a touch of the exotic. An innkeeper is witness, too, to a cross section of humanity, for through an inn’s doors pass an ever-changing pageant of people, each with a story to tell, each with an experience to share.
An innkeeper is host, conversationalist, confidant, storyteller, maitre d’, concierge, bartender, companion, a worthy personage indeed, full of hearty friendliness, an all-embracing good will, and always ready to assist or entertain a guest.
All true . . . to a degree. But an innkeeper is often a great deal more than that. Depending on the establishment he runs—its size, its profitability, his resources—he may also be housecleaner, handyman, cook, gardener, waiter, painter, bookkeeper, dishwasher, errand runner, bell hop, plumber, receptionist, carpenter, launderer, electrician, quartermaster, and general all-around drudge. On some days, days he relives in that night’s restless nightmares, he is all of those at once. Then, God help him, he wonders what madness ever drove him to owning an inn.