Ah, to be young again. Or maybe not. These are strange times indeed.

As you may be aware, especially if you’re reading this blog, we have a one-bedroom apartment attached to our home that we rent out for short-term stays. We host all types of guests due to our proximity to the University of North Carolina. Sports fans, job applicants, hospital visitors, families visiting students -- you get the idea. 

As you can imagine, this short-term rental business came to a grinding halt when stay-at-home orders were put in place due to COVID-19. The students weren’t on campus anymore, so there weren’t any families coming to visit. All the sporting events were cancelled, so no fans were coming to cheer on the Tar Heels. Interviews went online, hospital visits became telehealth appointments, and no one seemed to need to visit anymore.

The thing is, though, that despite the fact the University is still mostly closed, we’re currently hosting more guests than ever before. 

Who are these guests? Some of them have been long-term quarantine stays or people moving out of the area. However, the last four weekends have brought a different type of guest for us. 

These weekend guests don’t really give a reason for why they’re visiting Chapel Hill. The stated reason is usually something about a weekend getaway. Don’t get me wrong -- Chapel Hill is nice. But my one-bedroom apartment by UNC  isn’t necessarily what I’d consider a great destination for a weekend away, especially without the lure of a sporting event or campus visit. 

Additionally, these weekend guests are individuals with no reviews, all of them with Airbnb accounts that were opened within the last month. Despite their vague reasons for visiting, they’ve been extra polite with their requests. It’s like they’re desperate for me to take a chance on them. 

Maybe they are. 

As people emerge from their COVID cocoons, I get the sense that my humble one-bedroom apartment has become the new normal’s answer to Lovers’ Lane. There are always two guests (with two cars with out-of-state plates). These guests don’t tend to venture out too much, but rather hunker down for their two-night stays. They keep to themselves, and they’re gone before I’ve really even registered they were here in the first place. 

Initially, I was sort of thrown by this line of thought. I didn’t really set up our apartment to be particularly romantic or a couple’s destination. The apartment is attractive, but it stands out for its cleanliness, practicality in price, and location. It’s a far cry from a “weekend getaway.” 

The more I thought about it, however, the more I realized the error in my ways. I had forgotten what it feels like to be in my early 20s, in love with someone who didn’t live in the same place as me, and generally desperate to see that special someone. 

When you’re young, everything is romantic because it’s not about the setting; it’s about being with that person. I know many of these young couples had the rug pulled out from under them when school was cancelled and there was no more time to make plans, just an order to return home. 

When you’re more concerned with the person than the place, of course price, practicality, and location are key. I was initially weary of these guests, but the reality is they’ve been polite, clean, and left glowing reviews. 

Your early 20s are a tough time. You’re not a teenager anymore, but you certainly don’t feel qualified to be an adult. There’s a lot of uncertainty in what’s next. There’s a lot of tumultuous moments in figuring out who you are, who you are as a partner to someone else, and who you want to be. Your early 20s feel like you’re fumbling for a light switch in the dark. 

In my case, it looked more like searching for a lighter for five years. 

In light of how hard it is to be in your early 20s, stuck at home, missing your significant other, and generally just confused about your existence in a pandemic, I’ve decided to embrace my new status as the pandemic’s answer to a romantic retreat. I’m not going to change my advertising or start including bottles of champagne, but I will accept any request by someone with no reviews and a desire to go on a “weekend getaway.” 

Assuming you leave the place OK, you’re guaranteed a glowing five-star review. It’s the least I can do -- since I remember what it was to be you, just without a pandemic.