I might need to knock over a liquor store before this semester is finished.
Every time I check my savings account, I find dwindling digits.
Back in August, my account was Chris Marcus-sized. Now it’s more the size of an Olympic gymnast.
I started retracing my steps. What could possibly be sucking away all my finances?
Then I figured it out.
It’s coffee. Or tea. Or Smoothies. This new trend started with the recent proliferation of coffeehouses on the Hill. We’ve finally caught up to 1995.
My money since has been swirling down the drain in a huge mix of caffeine pleasure. It’s even followed me home to Louisville, where a Starbuck’s has popped up near my quaint suburban neighborhood.
Down every campus sidewalk I stroll and on every avenue through Bowling Green I drive, I’m tempted by the smell of these small, steamy beverages.
The Smoothies are even worse. I find myself craving them. I even ask for particular metabolic “boosters” when I order them. As if something called Chocolate Caramel Dream can also be a “fat-burner.”
There really is no logical justification for paying $4 for a tall cup of coffee. It tastes great, but that’s not a quality rationalization for spending so much on something so . liquid.
It really doesn’t make sense. Gasoline costs $1.50, and it has to be drilled from underneath the Earth’s surface.
I sometimes pay twice as much for coffee, which is essentially water flavored by beans. Sure, they say the latte and cappuccino frills are what makes it so expensive, but nobody on the Hill has that type of money except Dennis Felton.
In an effort to fix my manic spending, I dropped my Juvenile Delinquency night class and instead registered for Personal Finance.
This is a class made for people like me, I thought. If I learned anything this semester, I was going to become a better money manager.
We were supposed to have a test last week. I hadn’t studied much, figuring it would mostly be common sense – which I clearly do not possess. If I did, then I wouldn’t need to take a class that might as well be called “Not Blowing Your Money Like A Freakin’ Idiot 101.”
I finally pulled out notes about two hours before the exam. As rain poured outside, the ins-and-outs of Personal Finance slowly dripped into my bewildered noggin.
It clearly didn’t work. As I studied, I was sipping on a $3 cup of hot chocolate sitting amidst the other not-so money savvy in Java City.
But they say you pay for the atmosphere, so at least I wasn’t getting ripped off.
Joseph Lord is a junior print journalism major from Louisville.