I called my AirBnB host for instructions on how to get into her Boston apartment because she had forgotten to leave me a key.

A few minutes later I was creeping through a pitch-black, cold basement with half-inch-deep murky water flooding the concrete floor, using my iPhone as a flashlight.

The moral of this story is: If you use AirBnB often enough, you may become the protagonist in an M. Night Shyamalan movie.