Ah, summer vacations. Flush with enthusiasm for a well-deserved getaway, many folks just like you and I entrust their beloved homes to friends, co-workers or even (gulp!) strangers with an eye for earning a couple bucks. That's when the trouble seems to start, at least according to the New York Times. Read an excerpt here:

There are those people, the comedian and playwright Steve Bluestein says, who are just unlucky: they go to a garage sale looking for a bargain and their car gets hit by a truck. Such were the beloved elderly couple to whom he entrusted his four-level house in Bel Air when he went to a wedding in Hawaii a few years ago. He was not concerned, however, because, as was his custom, he had left meticulous directions, including a three-by-five-inch card taped to the inside of the front door. The key points were in red. Alarm on? Door locked? Windows closed? There was another written warning: Do not use the lower front door lock.

“So I’m at the wedding in Hawaii, dancing, having a really good time, when my cellphone rings,” Mr. Bluestein says. “ ‘Steve, we’re locked out. The bottom lock is locked.’ The one I told you specifically not to lock? ‘Yes, that one. Should we break a window?’ I have plate-glass windows in my front doors. To replace them is like $800 each. I say, Noooooo!”

Mr. Bluestein’s first thought was that there was no rush because it was only 9:15 at night and they could find a solution. Then he remembered the time difference. He realized he had two people in their 70s standing in his driveway after midnight. Desperate, Mr. Bluestein tried to find an all-night locksmith on the phone. By an unfortunate coincidence, the one the Westwood information operator found for him was the same man Mr. Bluestein once reported to Medeco for price-gouging.

“The guy shows up at 2 a.m. with dollar signs in his eyes and charges me $300 for opening the front door,” Mr. Bluestein says. “Meanwhile, the dog has had free range of the house for six hours. He pulled every towel down and shredded it into something that looked like a fine snow powder. Damage about $250. They also shut off my answering machine by mistake. One week’s business calls gone: priceless. When I got back and I called to thank them for housesitting, they said: ‘Never again are we housesitting for you. That place is a nightmare.’ It drifted into an inaudible hum as I listened to the reasons why it was my fault they locked themselves out.”

Could we get the names of the housesitters?

“No, I love these people,” he said.

Brilliant.

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