Beat to the Punch, Dodging the Cut, and Meeting the Man

Well, I've never claimed to be much of a genius. Sure, I've had the occasional flash of brilliance, but Issac Newton I'm not. And to prove that I'd like to share this article from the New York Magazine. It appears the author, Jardine had the idea long before me. But read the article and you will see that Jardine lacks vision. Jardine tried it for only a week. Jardine cannot make important sacrifices, like giving up cigarettes. Jardine believes that $8 meatballs are a find. Jardine resorts to begging, she resorts to borrowing, and Jardine, when all this fails, resorts to Craigslist in order to get a meal. With a smile of pure schadenfreude I'd like to report that Jardine got stood up at said Craigslist date.

At the end of her frugal week, Jardine even has a nice little pile of trash to show us which she's artfully arranged. You may feel I'm being hard on Jardine, but I disagree. You see ladies and gentlemen, Jardine is a tourist. And, as is appropriate for all tourists, we should scorn Jardine, or at the very least we should pity her for her insurmountable dullness. The Gotham Frugal is in it for the long haul. This is no fantasy getaway. And to my Hawaiian friend, Kori, who shared this great article with me: "Mahalo, Mahalo nui loa."

This morning I stopped by the grocery store to buy yogurt and I caught my reflection in the store window. It was then that I decided to get a haircut, and being on the low rent tip I went to Supercuts after work. Before going I even printed out a $2 off coupon. When I got to the Supercuts location, I approached the counter, and was told by the fat, smug, gay man "You can have a seat on that bench." I thought 'Oh, can I? Will you allow me the honor of placing my tuckus on this fine cube of plywood and pleather? How privileged I feel." I sat for a moment and watched a young lady hack at man's head with the basest of styling tools, the clippers. I can't tell you how many haircuts have taken a sour turn once the barber turned on that buzz saw of death, and on the way over I prepared myself for telling some underpaid, under trained hair tech how I won't allow them to use their favorite tool. I watched as the man who 'sat' me plunged a straw into his Starbucks frappuccino and began to rehearse my instructions, then I spied the price chart. It was $22, where I expected something closer to $12. Then and there I decided that I'm just going to have to let my locks hang during the wedding, come what may.

I decided to walk the 30 or so blocks home keeping an eye out for a bus I could catch. It was hot, it was East Harlem, and I didn't know the area that well. Plus I always seemed to be a few blocks ahead or behind the limited stop bus that could deliver me to my door. But then, after walking almost all the distance, a little less than a block away from my apartment I saw a familiar looking man step out of a cab. It was, to my delight, none other than Dominic Chianese, better known as Junior Soprano, no doubt headed to the nearby, ultra-exclusive, Italian restaurant Rao's. Our paths crossed and I gave him a casual "Love the show." It didn't quite register, I think he was trying to get his bearings having emerged from the cab, as I got a sort of nod. But then it must've hit him, he'd been payed a compliment. I crossed the street he looked back and gave me a very un-Junior like smile, but warm all the same. The best things in life just may be free.

THE DAILY BREAKDOWN

Starting balance: $11.25

IN: $10

OUT:
Yogurt: $2.25

Balance: $19