This is an account of our experience at Aunt Rebecca's B&B on the evening of February 29, 2008:

We parked as instructed, behind the B&B. Joe, the husband of the duo that runs Aunt Rebecca's, greeted my husband and myself when we entered the house. We admired the entry area, remarking on the cool original details. The house was a nice, big, old row house typical of Baltimore. We were pleased to arrive and looking forward to our stay. Before showing us our room, Joe instructed us to take a seat in the parlor.

We'd been driving for hours from NYC, and had booked two weekend nights to visit our 23 y.o. daughter and hear about her first job and new life in Baltimore.

My husband explained that he'd like to use the bathroom first, so he was directed two flights up, while I remained seated, supervised by Joe. Husband returned and was instructed, again, to sit in the chair indicated, and Joe launched into a 25-minute monologue about our room, the direction of the prevailing winds in the area, the portable heater in our room, when we could take baths (evening only), what beverages were available in the little fridge in back, and to "be sure to replace the beer in the fridge," if we helped ourselves.

We weren't visiting for Joe’s beer, and I was dying to get our luggage to our room and take a quick snooze before dinner. But Joe brooked no interruption. He went on about the neighborhood, describing in minute detail the various establishments on the surrounding streets. Without reference to a map (he didn't have a Baltimore map) this exhaustive information wasn't very helpful. But Joe was clearly a character, and he was tolerated with courteous attention.

Noting we had bikes with us, he went on to suggest where and how to ride and how to look after our parked car and where our daughter could park when she arrived and so forth...I finally interrupted to explain that I was road-weary and we had things to arrange before dinner....could we go to the room?

Joe allowed us upstairs, but buzzed the room’s intercom “to check up” as soon as I got my bag in the door. We organized our belongings, made calls, napped, changed. The room was large, clean and charming, while loaded with doilies, stuffed animals and knickknacks— typical of many B&Bs.

Joe went from being a character, to relentlessly intrusive. When daughter arrived, husband was waiting in the parlor. He let her in and Joe immediately intervened, demanding to know where she parked, then buttonholing her about where she should ride a bike in Baltimore. She didn't own a bike, and he didn't know her neighborhood....Joe was simply blathering (at a pretty girl) and when the spouse tried to get a word in edgewise, Joe said, and I quote: "I'm not talking to you, I'm talking to HER. I'm not finished."

I arrived to greet her, and seeing Joe was determined not to let her go, I suggested we go upstairs for a pit stop before leaving. I knew spouse was coming to the end of his patience.

As we went up, spouse explained that we hadn't seen our daughter since Christmas and that he's appreciate a little space to say hello. Joe suggested that he could find us another place to stay. Husband said that it wasn't necessary, that this place was nice, but we'd like some privacy.

Instead of responding, Joe walked over to the staircase and shouted up that he wanted us "out of his house! Get your stuff and get out!" Spouse insisted that Joe address HIM, not his family who had nothing to do with the conversation, but Joe ignored him, and shouted at us as we were coming down, that he would "call the police!" if he had to. (I wonder what the complaint to the officer would be—that we wouldn't make friends with him?)

Roused by his ruckus, Joe's wife, "Aunt Rebecca," arrived on the scene. She was clearly the brains of the operation. She dismissed her husband, explaining that he "wasn't helping," and as he retreated and argued his case, he said "this guy and his wife—if she IS his wife..." His wife hustled him out.

We were flummoxed and eager to leave. Rebecca repeatedly apologized. She was a very nice person, and clearly embarrassed. We repacked, quietly transfered our stuff outside, repacked the car. We slept at daughter's shared townhouse, and she stayed at her boyfriend's. We all had a great time in Baltimore, and look forward to the next visit.

Rebecca herself was a perfectly reasonable, polite, and patient woman. She was totally apologetic, and my husband assured her it was ok, observing that she had probably experienced this before. She didn't deny it.

Unfortunately her husband is not suited to a position of dealing with the public; he treated his visitors as a captive audience; their role, to interact with HIM.

The room was $135 a night, so the lack of boundaries and the social ineptitude were a surprise. (No payment info was exchanged, we were never charged.)

Stay away, or be forewarned. And if you aren’t traveling alone and Joe suspects you aren’t a married couple, you may not be welcome. Feb. 29.... I'm hoping we don't have this kind of bad luck for another four years.