These hosts were in for a total nightmare when these monsters showed up at their doorstep. These guests treated these places like dumpsters, leaving behind some horrifically memorable presents in the process. Content has been edited cor clarity.
"So for some context, I would like to preface this by saying that my mother and I generally have good reviews and kind guests, who don’t have any problems agreeing to our three rules. These rules include closing the gate, trying not to come upstairs before ten in the morning and after eight at night, and to notify us if you are coming upstairs. These two girls stayed in our basement, and they seemed like your typical college students. They told us about their yoga retreat and made jokes upon arriving before we showed them how to close and lock the gate, so our dogs were safe. They said they understood, and they closed and opened the gate a few times properly, and went downstairs without another word. The next morning, my mother let our dogs outside, not thinking much of it. About thirty minutes go by, and the dogs haven’t asked to come back in yet, so she goes to check on them and they aren’t in our yard. She goes to check the gate, and it’s wide open. One of our dogs is super easy to catch when he gets out, because he immediately goes to the front porch and waits for my mom to let him in. Our other dog is a whole different story. She is a rescue with severe trauma and no trust in strangers. She will run like a maniac until she sees either me or my mom, which makes her very difficult to catch. We eventually got both dogs inside and told the guests to close the gate when they got back.
The next morning, I let them out for a second, but then I though that I’ll just be safe and check the gate. It is once again, open. Our rescue dog has already bolted out the gate and down the street. She hadn’t gotten far, so I just went through the alley to get in front of her and got her back inside. I was a little ticked off at this point. I closed the gate and left a note on it that read, 'Please close the gate!' with simple instructions on how to close it, in case they had forgotten. It’s around nine at night when they got back, I wasn’t exactly going to sleep yet, but I was turning off the downstairs lights and getting water when they come upstairs, an hour after they are not supposed to, yelling about how I need to get my head out of my butt. It is now two adults screaming at a teenager, because they couldn’t follow one of the three rules we have. I’m more than a little upset now, but I try to remain calm and explain that we have to keep our dogs safe. They finally calm down after a while, agree to close the gate, and go downstairs.
The next morning, I come downstairs around six in the morning to find the girls had left the gate wide open and tore up my note. I was mad, but I just closed the gate and let the dogs out. It was the day they were going to leave anyway, so I figured that I would just put up with them until they all had left. Most of that day was actually normal and uneventful, they just left. Until I went downstairs to clean up. They had totally demolished the place, took all the dishes off the shelf and put them on the floor, took all the books out of the bookcase, poured coffee on the counter, and even turned furniture upside down. They somehow hid the remotes. It took me forever to clean, and I’m still salty about it to this day. Man, I really hate people."
"We are live-in hosts with Airbnb, so we are still present while guests stay in our spare bedroom. The guest arrived and immediately announced to us that they had pooped their pants during the journey. Then, they criticized us for cleanliness somehow! I offered this guy the chance to wash his clothes and everything in our bathroom, and he seemed like an actually friendly guy. It felt like a total kick in the teeth when we received such a terrible rating a few days later. There was also the guest who 'found' a pair of my favorite flip-flops in a wardrobe that they definitely should not have opened. Then they proceeded to poop all over the bathroom floor, ruining my favorite flip-flops in the process. There was also the guest who went out drinking for ten hours straight before checking in, meaning that I had to collect them from the taxi, put them in bed in the recovery position, check on them when I woke up for work, then call the taxi company on their behalf when it turned out that they had left their phone in the cab. Obviously in the morning, this guy couldn't remember the taxi company's number, so I had to first call his girlfriend and retrace his steps for him. I was very late to work and very grump about the whole thing. To be fair, the good massively outweighs the bad. We have been hosting for about three years now, and we have had only three horror stories out of well over two hundred visits!"
"My wife and I were hosts for about a year to make ends meet. We had just moved to a new town, so she could attend grad school. Guests had full access to the second floor while we lived on the first. We met a lot of cool people and ended up even getting super host status. The final guests we ever had were an older couple that had traveled a lot. They seemed nice and we had a pleasant conversation, and they seemed cool with the accommodations. Keep in mind up until this point, we had never gotten less than five stars from dozens of guests. Later that night I was at my job, bartending. It was a busy evening and the older husband rolls up, saying that he needs to talk with me outside. I hurry out trying to accommodate him and also get back to my busy shift. He proceeds to lay into me at my place of work about how our space wasn’t up to Airbnb standards and they won’t be staying there, and some friends found them another place to stay that night. I was confused but okay, sure thing, I’ll give you the full refund you’re asking for. He goes on his way. We refund everything we had gotten from them. Airbnb did not refund the taxes and fees per their own terms and conditions. I think his main complaint ended up being a spider web under the bed and that there wasn’t AC upstairs. We lived in a mountain town on the east coast of the States in the summer. It was warm, but there were fans and it wasn’t unbearable. I can understand why he’d want to stay somewhere else though.
Anyways we think it’s all behind us and my wife and I embark on a cross-country road trip a few days later to check out the country and go see her family on the west coast. On the first day, the older husband starts blowing us up through Airbnb messaging, saying he didn’t get all his money back and to send him the rest. We had returned all the money we got. We told him to take up the rest with Airbnb, and that we couldn’t help him. He was flipping out, saying we were bad at business and there were other avenues to get him his money back like Venmo and some other crazy stuff. It got to the point we had to contact Airbnb to take care of it, so he would stop contacting us. He basically wanted us to pay him for taking away our opportunity to make some money off other guests that weekend and for him to insult us and our home. It was a crazy stressful situation at the beginning of a long trip, and it influenced us to find a roommate instead of continuing with Airbnb hosting.
We also had a dude and his girlfriend who were probably in their late 40s get absolutely hammered, come back around midnight and she was throwing up in the yard while he laid on our living room floor with our dog angrily talking about his girlfriend and asking us for smokes. They were alright, but left about forty empty cans up in the room for me to clean up."
"While traveling extensively, I would put my apartment up on Airbnb while I was away. Now my apartment has lots and lots of closets and drawers, which I would purposefully leave empty for my guests to use as they pleased. However, there was only one closet in the bedroom that I kept locked, because that was where I kept all of my personal belongings. One time, this guest left me a terrible review, saying that the place had no storage space, which I was quite confused about. Then I got home and saw what had become of my closet. This dude had tried to open it using pure brute force. The door was almost pulled off of its hinges, and the wood was chipped in various places. This door had two pretty large padlocks on it, and for whatever reason, the totally empty closet on the opposite wall was left untouched. This guy must have either been a creep or simply completely out of it. I couldn't confirm it though, since I thankfully didn't meet him face to face. He was the last guest that I ever hosted on Airbnb, and I was totally done with it all. I had to get my dad to drive up and meet me to help me repair the closet door. I genuinely don't think that this guest stole anything of mine. There were plenty of my possessions that he could have stolen, but all of them were still there. I absolutely reported this to Airbnb, but I was too fed up to pursue this case any further."
"My mother and I had recently started renting out her house for Airbnb when this happened, so it took us both completely by surprise. Also, for some context, we had recently redone the second floor to make it more suitable for guests. We even installed a fancy steam shower and a bidet on the toilet. So the people called in advance, and they seemed like relatively normal people from Texas or Kansas or somewhere. As their stay continued, they kept calling us with complaints, so my brother and I had to go over and do a ton of random tasks for them, such as showing them how to open the fridge. Yes. Opening a fridge. Anyways, after the last stupid question/complaint, a few days had passed, and they left early because their uncle or some family member came down with something, I can’t remember what. Usually we had a maid come to clean the house, but she called saying the house was too nasty for her to clean. So my brother and I go out to the house to see what the fuss was all about. The downstairs area seemed fine, about as messy as the other guests usually left it, but the problem, however, was upstairs.
We walked into my old bedroom, and it was completely trashed. Like there were dressers on the ground, pillows and blankets everywhere, and for some reason, a tiny doll, which appeared to have had the clothes torn off of it. So we were annoyed and cleaned it up, but then I walked into the bathroom, and there it was. I kid you not, there were TWO PILES OF HUMAN FECES NEXT TO THE TOILET! Who just takes a dump on the floor by the toilet? And then we went over to the master bedroom, which was surprisingly clean, except for the bathroom. This bathroom had towels everywhere, and another pile of poop by the toilet, and another steaming pile INSIDE THE ACTUAL STEAM SHOWER! Our precious steam shower, which was the best shower I had ever used, by the way. This has been my worst experience with a guest. We didn’t return their damage deposit."
"A friend of mine has a big apartment in London, in a dense urban area full of people and other buildings. His place has this massive window facing the main street, which people tend to assume is only one-way. Unfortunately for him, you can see everything through that window. The guy who was staying in this apartment decided to just sit in front of the window, with absolutely nothing on, drinking and overlooking the great views. Apparently, this guy fell asleep right at that window. Everyone who was passing by that road witnessed this poor creature. I remember seeing a lot of funny online videos about it at the time. There actually could be a method to this guy's madness, however. There was an equally bizarre event going on in London at the time, where people would compete in a bike race while wearing nothing on. If I had to guess, I would say that he traveled to London to take part in this odd event. Maybe he assumed that people in London are more tolerable towards dudes showing off literally everything."
"So I rented out my apartment to this group of four girls. It turned out that they would be going out to party every single day during their stay. I get an upset call one morning at five in the morning. It's the guard from my apartment building, telling me that there is a girl passed out in the lobby couch. She had been violently throwing up in the lobby and peeing herself. None of her friends had gone back to help her. Obviously, the lobby couch was completely ruined. The next day, the lobby attendant calls me again, saying that another one of the girls peed all over the floor while trying to run up the stair while super wasted and incoherent. Of course, I made these women pay a company to do some industrial-level cleaning on this couch. These girls all seemed somewhat embarrassed, but at the same time there was a level of apathy towards the consequences of their actions. Unfortunately, these women had no idea what sort of company to call. They ended up leaving before doing any of that actual work. So it was now my responsibility for what my awful guests did. My name was in the Airbnb contract. I was ultimately charged by the building for cleaning and after I got the right company to fix everything, I passed that bill onto the four women. Thank goodness they had enough sense to pay for it at least."
"So this guy that I worked with hired a maid through a mutual friend's recommendation. She apparently was great at her job, and she asked to stay at my friend's place a couple of times while he would be gone. They finalized everything so she could rent it when it wasn't being occupied, but immediately afterward, she totally ghosted him while he was out of town. He ended up calling the police and getting them to figure out where she was. She apparently was already at his place. She was nervous to see the police, but everything else seemed fairly normal. She later called him and asked him to extend her stay. He vehemently denied it. He wanted her to clean up after herself and get out.
He returns to his house a little early, a few days later at five in the morning. He discovers a random man sleeping in his downstairs room with dirty dishes and used smokes everywhere. Well, it turns out that this random man was the maid's addict husband. They had both been using my friend's place as a flophouse to get high. My friend escorted this random dude outside by brandishing a weapon, and this dude didn't even have time to put on pants! My friend's place was absolutely trashed downstairs, but apparently the upstairs area was still perfectly clean. His television had been taken, but the husband eventually brought it back and left it in the driveway, so he couldn't be charged with theft. Apparently, there wasn't much that my friend could do with Airbnb about this free stay that the sketchy husband took advantage of."
"This guy requested a second key to my apartment, so his mother could swing by. When I came back from my errands to drop it off, he opened the door slightly ajar, only letting his hand out to receive the key. He didn't want to shake my hand. He sent me so many messages, complaining that the drawers in the bathroom were full of personal stuff. I actually left a lot of unused items specifically for guests to use. He was annoyed by this, as well as the fact that the night stand was already full of books and magazines and city guides for guests to read. He also complained about food that we left for guests to enjoy. After finally leaving, this guy wrote a massively scathing review. He had a lot of hot takes, such as the linens and pots being worn out and dirty, the apartment was filthy, and the taxi that took him to my place ripped him off. The linens and pots were top of the line, I thoroughly clean the apartment before every guest arrives, and I guess he thought that I was working against him with the entire taxi company? I have no idea. His mother was sweet though. I often wonder how parents who give birth to such monsters feel about them."
"I hosted for a few years, as a super host, and frankly I had lovely guests. They were all very cool, intelligent, well traveled, and interesting people from all over the world. They were all pretty tidy too and considerate. The only annoying thing was people who talked way too much. Normally, people would exchange pleasantries and we'd chit-chat for a bit, which is totally fine and welcome. But, every once in a while, I would get a guest who talked nonstop from the time they got in until they went to bed. The rental suite I had for them was fantastic, like its own separate apartment, fully stocked with everything I would want if I were a guest. And yet, there were a few people who had to hang out on my floor and talk talk talk talk! When I got an over talker, sometimes I would hide when I heard them coming, so they would go ahead to their floor. Because I just could not stand someone talking at me from 7 p.m. until 11 p.m.
Sometimes, the only thing I could do was leave. The main floor was my living space. They had another entire floor as a large living suite. This included a living room, bedroom, office, fully stocked kitchen, dining area, laundry room, balcony with a great view of the DC area, and a large screen TV with all major streaming services. So most people were happy to be there and not on my floor. But the over talkers are a rare breed of clueless. I tried various wrap up phrases, like, 'Well, I'm glad that you enjoyed the city. Have a good evening. I'll see you tomorrow!' Normal people get it and respond by going on to their suite.Nonstop talkers just kept on talking, unless I actually did leave. So, I did just that. I would go to my bedroom (even though I didn't want to) or on occasion, I just left my house briefly and drove around the block to escape the chatterer. If I was gone, they'd go on to their suite. But it's irritating to flee just to get away from someone who doesn't care whether you want to listen. They just want to talk. That's why hiding was easier than extricating myself from an over talker.
And as a host, I didn't feel like I could be as direct as I would ordinarily be, like, 'I can't talk to you right now,' or, 'I would like to get back to my book.' Anything that seemed like a brush off could result in a lower rating, and anything short of 4.5 to 5 stars can hurt your standing in the search results. Something is missing with these extreme talkers. I tend to think they're self-absorbed. But I really don't know. Maybe it's insecurity or different things for different people. I don't really understand that personality. I get bored with myself talking. And I certainly notice if someone shows any nonverbal sign of being antsy. I stop. I think most people do. They know when to ask questions and listen and when to wrap it up! I have had guests complain to me about the fact that the public sidewalk near my house had rocks on it, as well as tht fact that my porch was wet after the rain. I cannot control the rain. I truly have seen it all!"
"So I co-hosted a super host Airbnb for about four years. We never had any crazy property damage or violent guests but there was this one time that will always stick with me. There was a group of girls in town for a bachelorette party who were also nurses. They stayed without any problems and seemed to clean up alright after themselves. I did suffer from the obligatory overflowing recycling bin full of bottles though. Everything seemed perfectly fine until I saw a weird speckle on the duvet. It looked like someone had flicked red paint, and I figured that it was blood and went to get some hydrogen peroxide before bleaching it. But as I looked up, I noticed another small smattering on the blinds. Then the door. And the wall. Each one was almost too small to detect if you weren't paying attention, but they had my attention now, so I proceeded throughout the whole house on a magical mystery tour of tiny blood splatters. Furniture, blinds, sheets, tables, walls, you name it. The trail encompassed the whole house. It wasn't until I got to the bathroom that I deciphered what must've happened. There, in the bathroom in the trash, were used syringes, IVs, and tubes also covered in blood and boldly greeting me.
Having several friends in the medical industry who also like to drink, I was aware that they sometimes employ the help of a saline drip to sober up. Well these ladies must've been completely hammered, because they could NOT figure out how to get those IVs in. They ended up creating a Jackson Pollock painting of bad decision juice all over the house as they fumbled to destroy the evidence of their bender. It took me all day to find and bleach everything. I had to cancel the next guest, because I was so paranoid that I hadn't gotten to and sanitized every inch of that house. That was enough to ban bachelorette parties from my place forever."