Airbnb: I'm an Airbnb superhost, this is how I'm judging you

Apart from the constant cleaning and laundry, the arm workout of changing the doona cover, and the occasional snippy comment about dust, being an Airbnb host is mostly enjoyable - especially on payday. But in my 11 years welcoming guests into the places I've lived - from a spare room to the whole place when I'm away, or a private wing - I may have become slightly judgmental. When you're living with your guests, as I have previously, that's one thing. But now that I'm renting out part of my house as a private guest suite, judging guests I've never met becomes mostly an exercise in imagination. And whether it's positive or negative, that judgment is largely based on some brief online communication, noise levels, wet towels left on the bed, mysterious stains and the eventual, all-important, review. Sometimes it can start before a guest has even booked, when they pop up with a bold request for a discount. Or they ask to bring, say, two woofers - despite my accommodation being clearly a "no pet" kind of deal. Making the bed might turn up anything from popcorn crumbs to misplaced knickers. It seems that no matter how clear you try to make your listing, there's always one galah who doesn't read a thing and then gets aggrieved when the location or facilities don't live up to their fictional expectations. (Sometimes yes, that's me, when I stay at other Airbnbs, though I keep any ill-founded complaints to myself.) In one extreme case, I had some guests who were just very aggrieved with each other and spent the entire night screaming the house down. Despite a locked door between us, I felt alarmed and sleepless, and fled to my friend's house at 3am. While I didn't review those guests, I was bemused to see their online appraisal, which complimented both my communication and their lovely stay. Their next judgment will surely come not from me, but a magistrate. Airbnb guests can be a mixed bag. Some guests are just a bit rude, such as one who wanted to cancel and get a refund four hours before arrival, in the middle of peak season. Occasionally, a guest will accidentally (I assume) block my car and me in the garage, despite clear instructions to park on their side of the driveway. While I try not to, once or twice I've had to awkwardly knock on their door and rouse them from their slumber - at a reasonable hour - to make my escape. Thankfully, many guests are an absolute delight, leaving the place shipshape, sending me polite messages and posting five-star reviews (and in one repeat visitors' case, even giving cute little presents). If I bump into guests out the front, usually we'll have a friendly chat about surfing, driving the Great Ocean Road, or places they've been. Those towels at your Airbnb accommodation didn't just roll themselves. While I don't expect guests to clean my place - I'm not a complete sadist - I do love it when they strip the bed, or just put everything back where they found it. After all, dear guests, this is my actual house, and I've not only lovingly rolled your towels, cleaned the loo and Windexed the bathroom mirror, but left you brochures, maps, suggestions on where to eat and drink and the best lookouts and beaches to visit. Later, I will perhaps clear your popcorn off the bed, return your lost jewellery, or gingerly retrieve your itsy-bitsy knickers from under the pillow. In one case, a French couple leaving the country asked if they could leave a huge backpack of stuff behind, and I found myself sorting through - and either keeping or giving away - their worldly goods. So yes, I'm definitely judging you, and probably your romantic relationship, but often in a good way. I don't feel that guilty, though, as I know you're really, really judging me and my place, too.