I am a very hospitable person. I love to host, it’s not a burden to me. But I don’t really like to go visiting. I was friends with my colleague for 5 years. We visited each other’s houses, celebrated all the holidays together and shared our secrets. However, the visits to her were bothering me.
Each visit was accompanied by instructions: “Clean the herring”, “Wash the dishes”, “Sweep”. And I come dressed up, with makeup, styling – is this normal? After such preparations I smell not of French perfume, but of smelly fish. Naturally, there is no trace of the festive atmosphere.
The interesting thing is that she’s not the only one who has such rules for receiving guests.
Once an old friend of mine invited me over. We went to college together. She was going to have an anniversary, and that was the reason for the meeting. I thought that she would celebrate in some restaurant, but no. Of course, I was very surprised when I found out that she was going to celebrate at home. Especially since she lives about 60 km out of town. I was not very happy at the prospect of going to her place to spend the night.
My friend was telling me over Skype how she was getting ready for the holiday. Buying groceries, cleaning, making preparations. But I was left with one question – how in a tiny khrushchevka she is going to meet guests?
And then the day “X” came. I gave the birthday girl a bouquet of chrysanthemums and a multicooker as a gift. When I saw her, I clutched my head. Exhausted, pale, without makeup, in an old bathrobe. And what kind of festive atmosphere could we talk about?
I immediately had to take over the watch and start helping her. The kitchen was small – the two of us couldn’t even turn around. Each guest helped set the table, so we reeked of meatballs, stuffed cabbage rolls, and other treats. In general, I couldn’t feel my legs till I managed to do everything. Before the other guests arrived, the jubilee lady changed her dress; there was no time for other beauty procedures.
The guests were having fun, praising the cooking abilities of the hostess, and making toasts. Everything would have been fine, but the holiday did not bring pleasure to the guest of honor. She was smiling through her strength, but really wanted only one thing – to sleep.
When all the guests were gone, we began to clean up. Since I slept at her place, my conscience would not let me escape from this “pleasant” occupation. By the way, her man went quietly to bed. We went to bed after midnight, exhausted. When I got home, I felt like a wreck. It was as if I hadn’t gone to visit, but to dig up the garden at the dacha.
The amazing thing is that this kind of request to help set the table is only accepted at our place. When we stayed with a Dutch friend of ours, we noticed that they don’t even let guests in the kitchen.
I don’t mind helping, but when I visit, I want to distract and relax. This is the reason why I don’t like to go visiting, and I do my own housekeeping. I always have a table set for my guests when they arrive, because I respect my guests.
And which position is closer to your heart? Mine or my friends’?
