I'm cheap. I'll admit it. I know that I am, but really it's not my fault, honest it isn't. Even when I was younger I was always tight with a buck, but I never thought it was because I was cheap. I tried to hide behind other words like "thrifty," "frugal," and occasionally even "poor." Soon I realized though that not having any money wasn't the real problem with me. I mean, we didn't have much, but none of my other friends did either and somehow now they wear Nautica jackets and CK jeans and drive Maximas, while I dress like a geek and take the bus. No, being poor wasn't the problem; it was more a function of what I did with the money I had. For example, they all chose to splurge on things like clothes and dates and having fun, while I chose to put my money in my little clown piggy bank. I thought, "Just wait a few years, when I'll be rolling in dough and they'll be flat broke!" But, unfortunately, unforeseen circumstances over the years forced me to smash my little piggy bank and pretty much reduced my savings to pennies.

It was at that point that I started asking my parents for a few dollars here and there, and I think this is really where the cheapness started. I don't think my parents ever really had an understanding of how much it cost to be a kid. For example, I can remember a few times when we loaded up the family to take a trip down to Atlantic City and while my parents went off to play the slots or whatever, my sister and I were left with $5 apiece to spend in the video arcade with a geeky older cousin as a chaperone. I'm sorry, but $5 doesn't last very long when you're a bored kid left alone in an arcade. After about 15 minutes of skee-ball and "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Video Game," you're pretty much done, and let me tell you, it's not very fun sitting around there with no money when your parents are gone for hours and hours on end. So experiences like that are what led me to finally blame my cheapness on my parents because on those precious few occasions when they actually did give me money, I held onto it like a baby clutching a bottle--I wouldn't let it go for ANYTHING.

I don't think I really realized I was all that cheap until it started displaying itself in different ways. Like, I noticed I would always try to calculate a 14% tip if a bunch of friends and I went out for dinner, rather than a 15% one. Hey, that extra 22 cents I saved from my tip could come in handy some day! Or how my first trip to the thrift store was like an epiphany for me. Corduroys for 4 dollars? A jacket for $3.25 ? A striped blue sweater for 80 cents? Oh boy! Throw them in the washing mashine twice after you come home, and you're good to go. Of course, the downside of shopping there was that it often meant wearing shirts that said random things like "Millersburg Baseball" or "North Penn Hospital M.S.A. Mustangs" on them. I can't tell you where Millersburg is or what M.S.A. stands for, but I can tell you that I paid less than $1.50 for both of them and they look pretty darn cool on me. And another downside of the thrift store is that it pretty much spoils you when you decide to go to more "upscale" stores. I can remember rummaging through the clearance rack at the Gap one day and thinking "Six dollars for a shirt? You gotta be kidding me! What a ripoff!"

The only person I know who's cheaper than me is my friend Abbey. It's not his fault, either. His parents are even worse than mine. Even though he's in his fourth year of college, his parents still dutifully and generously give him money everyday for lunch. Only one problem. Apparently they haven't realized that it's kind of hard to buy lunch for two dollars nowadays. One day a while ago both of us sat down to discuss his dilemma. He was very concerned about the situation. I mean, even though he's as skinny as a twig, this boy can pack it AWAY, and he was worried that two measly dollars wouldn't be enough to satisfy his appetite everyday. We talked and talked and tried to come up with an answer, and finally we did it. We came up with a way he could have lunch every day on his tight budget. We called it our "Two Dollar Meal Plan" and it looked a little like this:

Main Course:
1 Hot Dog (from food truck) $ .75

Side Dish:
2 Bags of Chips (1 oz.) $ .50 (25 cents each)

Beverage:
2 Little Hugs* $ .50 (25 cents each)

Dessert:
1 Little Debbie Snack Treat $ .25

----------------------------------- Total: $2.00

And that, my friend, is a well-balanced, nutritious lunch for two dollars. See, being cheap has its advantages, too. It can teach you to properly budget money. It can increase your social skills by forcing you to discuss ways to conserve money with your cheap friends. Yup, I'm cheap, but I think now I'm darn proud of it! You guys should give it a shot too. If you need some advice on ways you can save a few bucks, give me a call and I can give you a few ideas. As long as you don't call collect.

*For those of you are aren't cheap and from Philadelphia, Little Hugs are these artificially flavored fruit juices that come in little 8oz plastic bottles that look like barrels. For those of you who ARE cheap and from Philadelphia, you KNOW what I'm talking about...