Cheap Cheap Cheap

It has been so hot outside that I finally broke down and turned on the central air conditioning, after my tiny Vorndao room fan could no longer cool my overly-sweltering self as I moved it from room to room. Yes, you air conditioning fanatics out there, and you know who you are (I’m describing every living soul, aren’t I?), I know a tiny fan can’t do the job central air can do. Come on, stop laughing at me. I know what you’re thinking: She’s too cheap to turn it on.

Wait just one second. You’re not 100% right. I try not to use our came-with-the-house central air because it means I have to close all the windows (which I hate doing, since they have to stay closed for oh-so many months of the year). I would like to remind you air conditioning freaks that when you close all the windows you block out all the natural sounds and smells of summer. For me, closing windows means replacing Connecticut's short-lived, thank-God-it’s-summer delights with unnatural sounds and dangerous allergy-inducing musty smells (at least in my house).

Wait. Don’t believe me. I am not being honest. I don’t turn on the central air because I am cheap. I like to try to cover up for this cheapness by saying I inherited my father’s cheap gene, but we all know you can’t inherit such things. I confess: the reason I choose to drip with sweat instead of listening to our money-guzzling air conditioning units go on and off, on and off is that I shudder to think how much I'll have to pay CL&P for the extra usage.

There, you can stop stomping your feet and cheering. I admitted it. Let’s nod our heads in unison as we remember my random acts of cheapness. In fact, let’s knock ourselves out at my expense, and I’ll try not to mind, because it’s free to mock me, right?

Keep those smiles coming as you shoot your eyes backwards and remember how I: look for parking meters with time already on them, circle around so I can park in one of the three free places in town, try to get people to split one entree with me when we go out to eat, and have trouble leaving more than the exact tip. 

This one's for my husband, who reminds me that you have to pay for the best (I have a hard time understanding that rule): I always look for the cheapest deals on hotels and airlines, then bitterly complain when I'm not freely offered the best. 

I just, plain have difficulty understanding why I should shell out cash for things I deem “too expensive” - like the ring I fell in love with in an estate jewelry shop in Provincetown, which I decided was way, way too overpriced to actually buy. My friend ended up calling my husband and telling him I was too cheap to buy it, so she bought it for him to give to me. 

Then there was the time I had to replace my desktop computer with a laptop, and another friend shamed (and bullied!) me into buying it when I wouldn't stop kvetching and moaning (to her and the Apple salesperson) that I'd like to buy it, but it cost too much. 

I almost didn’t buy my first Prius five years ago, because it ended up being the more expensive loaded model instead of the cheap, bare-bones model I’d originally ordered. I again had trouble this June when I bought my second Prius, which I refused to buy until they took off the $50 charge for the cargo net, which I hadn't asked for and didn't want. It's turned into my favorite feature; I use it every day. 

I have trouble paying full price - especially for cherries (this revelation is going to make my sister very happy), which I won't buy unless they’re on sale (and even then, I only buy a handful at a time). I lied to her about my cherry-buying cheapness when she confronted me about it. I tried to convince her I wasn't cheap by spinning a long, drawn-out saga of not buying cherries because I once got sick on a train in Spain (mainly on the plain) after eating a kilo of them (which is true). I obviously protested too much, because she started chirping, "Cheap Cheap Cheap."

A few weeks ago, when my husband and I were on vacation, I said I’d rather starve than buy fish or meat at the gourmet-y store (c’mon, $28 a pound for fish?).  Can you blame me - in this 2009 shaky economy, which keeps tanking? I believe I should be honored for my cheapness, then reclassified as frugal. But that's not going to happen, is it, to this pay-for-coach/wanna-be-bumped-to-first-class-for-free cheapskate? 

Even though I’ve kept the air conditioning on for three full days. 

As another friend loves to remind me (with much rancor and glee): once a cheapskate, always a cheapskate. Rats, foiled again.