- By Riley Brettell
- Posted June 4, 2018
Shout Politics on a Shoestring.
I have always liked to consider myself to be a pretty carefree person when it comes to my cash.
I'm normally happy to spend a bit to have a good night out and strictly observe all the finer points of shout politics. I don't have a problem giving a fiver to a busker who plays Cold Chisel over Bieber. And I won't go banging a mate's door down if he hasn't paid me the $9 for last week's court fees two days later.
My skin is thick enough to be called virtually anything under the sun - including late for work – but a stinge? The indignity of it is too much to even consider.
While I can talk a big philanthropic game, that has been changing recently.
Maintaining that sort of attitude on a shoestring budget is near on impossible. Something has got to give.
There is always that uncomfortable point in any period of self-realisation when the glass shatters, and you really recognise what you have become.
That 'look in the mirror and realise you're not just carrying some extra water weight and have actually packed on ten kilos' moment.
The penny dropped for me the other day and I realised the extent of my increasing tightarse ways when, in order to avoid paying £5 for a train ride into the city for work, I opted to walk 12.07km through London.
That's two and half hours trudging along the footpath and the criminally early wake-up that goes with it rather than paying for a half hour tube ride. It's completely illogical and the definition of tight behaviour, but I'm calling this sort of act 'stinginess with dignity' as a means of justifying it to myself.
By that, I mean at least no one else can see my frugalness when I'm cutting costs this way.
Most people just opt to duck to the toilet when their friends are at the bar, 'forget' their wallet when out for a coffee, or blame a faulty Uber app for their inability to split the charge when they're looking to shirk a payment.
Apparently, I'd rather make some nonsensical side-steps throughout the rest of the week than stick with convention. Everyone would have their own tricks to cut back on costs, and provided it doesn't get in the way of the next round, I'm absolutely fine with it. But as our overzealous junior footy coach used say, 'when it's your time to go - you better bloody go.'
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