This is going to be a terrible week. It’s barely Monday and I already broke my $5.50-a-week challenge. Actually I broke it yesterday not even 5 hours after I set my new challenge because I got too hungry and had to order myself a Tasty King house special soup for another $5.50. And then today was such a tease — I heard admin A talking about what I thought was a lunch meeting, and turns out there were only snacks and at the end of the meeting, all that was left were a few pieces of Swedish Fish (which of course I nibbled on for lunch). So I had to order myself another chicken and broccoli with white rice today when I got home. The only good thing that came out of today was I realized that this entire time, the chicken and broccoli was actually $5.25, a whole 25 cents cheaper than the beef and broccoli. Now you may not think this is much, but I know for a fact that Suze Orman would agree this is huge — if I invest the 25 cents I could be spending on an upgrade from chicken to beef for the rest of my life, I could be rich by the time I’m dead.
I knew last week was too good to last forever. This is going to be a terrible week. In fact, I am so discouraged that I am contemplating the unthinkable: agreeing to a date to alleviate the costs of one meal later in the week, or at least one bloody mary as a soup substitute. For those of you who know me, you know that this is when things have gotten really, really bad. For my poverexic self, even the benefit of the promise of free food and drinks is far from outweighing the risk of the terrible inconvenience and annoyingly unnecessary chatting that our sick society has somehow made into an unspoken mandatory chore that has to go into ultimately getting laid.
I’ve only been on two dates in my entire years of life: the first I agreed to only because he was the owner of one of my fav campus bars Grafton, and I went in hopes that if I went on this one date, I would earn free drinks for the rest of my life, and this combined with the fact that I already got free drinks at the Kong from being a bartender there meant that I would have won 2 out of my 3 fav bars, and I would be set for life. But the free pad thai and promise of free future drinks were definitely not worth having to witness my date experiencing a nervous breakdown and severe eye twitching for the entire duration of our dinner (I thought this was the kind of thing you only hear about in fictional horror stories — he was the fictional horror story).
Then, the second date I only agreed to go on because he was my friend’s cousin and I didn’t want to explain my true feelings to her that I think whoever came up with the concept of dates was a bored, sexually incompetent individual and it is my personal mission to convince each and every one of my girl friends to join me in this movement to crush a tradition that has lasted a few decades too long. Anyway, I almost thought that the delicious watermelon and dirty martini from this second date would be worth it, until I had to go through trying to schedule the follow-up date, which was worse than trying to coordinate a client call with a very busy client (I was the very busy client). And since I didn’t have an admin to schedule my dates, it just got way too difficult and annoying to follow through with this.
In conclusion, despite the fact that I hate dates and encourage every single one of my friends to say NO to dates and stand up for sex, this week I am prepared to go against everything I believe in and everything I stand for to suck it up and go on a fucking date. Why? Because I am so, so hungy, and I am so, so poor. I have reached a new low.
Poverexic in NYC 