My Ex Was A Cheapskate

When you care about someone and they’re cheap with you financially and emotionally, it'll do nothing but bring down your self-worth and self-esteem. We learned valuable lessons about equality in relationships and what NOT to put up with. Thanks to all the cheap pricks who made this site possible. We may not have gotten a lot from you, but what we did get is a good laugh. At your expense! Send your story to

Friday, April 29, 2005

A Romantic Dinner at Home With Kraft Mac-n-Cheese

FROM: Grrl Friday

Reminds me of this guy I went out with who invited me to dinner and a movie. Turns out it was dinner at his duplex and the movie? He rentedBraveheart. Dinner was nasty. It consisted of mac and cheese from a box, probably not even Kraft, and the thinnest, roughest, toughest"steaks" I had ever had. Being the polite fake person that I am on the first date, I left some of my food on the plate. He asked, "Aren't you going to finish that? Can't waste it." Blech. At that point I decided,yeah, I'll make out with the guy and I might have sex with him, but I'm not going to do any hard work. I went into my "I've only ever been with my boyfriend" mode. The last time I talked to him he was bragging about taking another girl out for breakfast at McDonald's. I thought, "Take a good look you freak. I just came back from having breakfast at Magnolia Cafe." I guess I have a story where I was cheap, too. I once didn't go out with a guy because he asked me to stop at the store to buy condoms. He said he was broke. Then I remembered I had something to do. But he lived really far away and I didn't feel like going to Walgreens and takingcare of business, you know? I guess that was more a case of laziness than me being cheap.

Thursday, April 28, 2005

Have a Coke and a Smile

We never lived together, but I always kept things in my apartment that my ex could nibble on or drink when he visited. He particularly liked Coke and would often help himself to one, though he never bought them for himself.

I used to buy the 12 packs of Coke. What the hell? They're like what, $3?

He had a key to my apartment but I had always assumed that he didn't let himself in when I wasn't there. He had it because he worked later than me and when he spent the night he'd lock the door behind him the next morning.

I came home one day and noticed that some things were out of place. At first it freaked me out a little...had my landlord been in my apartment while I was out? Why didn't he tell me? I had talked to my ex earlier that day and he didn't make any mention of being in my apartment...

I looked around and nothing seemed to be missing....until....I opened the refrigerator. My Coke 12 pack was now a 9 pack. Hmmmm. I called my ex and asked 'Were you in my apartment today?' He responded, 'Yeah. I wanted to use your high speed service.' Then I asked, 'It's no big deal, but did you drink a lot of Coke?' He responded, 'Yeah. I took a couple with me, too.'

Um, since when was my refrigerator your convenience store?

Thanks To Everyone Who Helped Make This Record

Long before we broke up, my ex had put together an album. I was so excited about this album that I not only shot hundreds of photos for the cover, but I also PAID for these to be developed by a professional printer.

These photo shoots were done over the course of several weekends. Not only did I give up a good part of my weekends, but I also arranged for us to shoot at a location where we had to get permission ( A HUGE HASSLE - keep in mind this is a photo for *his* album yet I was the one who arrange the shoot), and even baked cookies for the woman who was kind enough to let us shoot at this location.

The album had already been sent off to print by the time we broke up. I knew he had included me in the photo credits and the 'thanks' credits when he sent it off. But when I saw his album a few months ago, I looked at the 'thanks' credits and saw that he went through the trouble of having my name taken off the thanks credits and filled in the space where my name used to be (in a different font) with a custom car group from Switzerland??

Forget that I went to all but two (2) of his many shows, often helped him carry his gear in and out of gigs, arranged and conducted the photo shoots, paid hundreds of dollars in processing AND hooked him up with one of my friends who played on his album. He was MAD! He was going to SHOW ME!! He now had real PUNK ROCK ANGER! So THERE!

The bastard lineage of his rampant immaturity remains a mystery since his parents are kind, giving and classy people. After we broke up, they didn't take me off their Christmas card list.... instead, they wrote me a lovely message and wished me happy holidays.

Wednesday, April 27, 2005

Where To Find Your Very Own Free-loader

Jealous? We thought so! Here are a few suggestions about where you can find *your* very own free-loader.

Free food events. Any and all of them. Doesn't matter how boring the event is or how bad the food is, the true freeloader is there with a plate in one hand, cup in the other.

Potluck parties. They'll be the one arriving empty-handed. Hey, no one's going to notice.

Rifling through the half-off cart at the grocery store. It's still just expired last week.

The free movie hour at your local theater. You wanna go out to the movies tonight? Great! How about the midnight showing?

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

Jukebox Of Sadness

This is the story I am most bitter about. When good old CHAD and I broke up, there were some money issues. He’d given me $800 (out of the total $4200 I’d paid) towards the down payment of the house we both lived in. He paid $400/month to live in the house (the mortgage was $1200), but not for any improvements or extra shit that needed to be done…after all it was my house, right? Now I might have been cool with this if he had ever lifted a finger to clean, cook, grocery shop, mow the lawn, weed or do laundry. In fact, at the end of our relationship I was so angry I separated out laundry and only did mine. He also only paid for food he thought he should pay for (i.e. the cheaper stuff) . Moving along, one of the first things he mentioned *while* we were in the midst of breaking up was whether or not he would get his $800 back. I just wanted him OUT OUT OUT of the house. He wanted to take our beautiful jukebox with him that we had both paid for, reasoning that this made us “even”. With a “Whatever”, I let it go and honestly, it pains me to this day that I did not stand up for myself. I loved the jukebox. I was the one who researched and bid on it on ebay and dealt with the shipping (a huge hassle). I chose it because my parents had the same exact model and so I had a sentimental attachment. Dumb, dumb, dumb! I wish I could take that fateful decision back. But I was cowed into thinking, “Hey, maybe I should give him his money back.” That’s how twisted my thinking had become! To the ladies and the mens – don’t let this happen to you. Now, I have a bunch of seven inch records with no place to live. It’s sad.

The Yogurt Chronicles

Okay -- so my ex was in a tight spot financially (or rather indefinitely) and was on the verge of losing his apartment. I lived in a tiny kitchen-less efficiency apartment and still was managing to never have the place to myself (but we’ll save that for another story).

Since he had lapsed on his electric and gas bills, my apartment became THE place to shower, cook, watch cable and basically any normal human functions whatsoever… (all at the loved one discount, of course!)

Eating out for most dinners and lunches (Gasp! I couldn’t bear the thought of my loved one missing a MEAL!) was really putting a damper on my finances, so I decided the best and healthiest option would be to make bag lunches for the workweek and then only eat out on the weekends…..

On our next trip to the grocery store, I bought the usual double-grocery load and rolled my cart up to the dairy section. I was standing in front of the ‘5 for $1 with your Kroger Plus card’ yogurts trying to decide the most nutritious of the bunch for me & my honey, when he rolled up and saw me stockpiling ten.

He immediately got like ‘Why are you buying so many yogurts?’ I explained that I was having to make two lunches a day, five days a week so ten was what we needed.

His eyes welled up with huge tears as he thanked me for taking care of him, again…. The gratitude was sincerely appreciated, but the $2 to pay for the yogurt would have meant more.

Can I Please Wipe and Flush You From My Life?

From: Jentastic

After dating Kevin for about a month, he showed his cheapness once more. We were at my apartment one morning. I had the day shift at work and he had the night shift and we were parting ways so he could go home and I could go to work. He said “I do need to drop by the office so I’ll follow you. I ran out of toilet paper” I tried to figure out how those two things connected . . . office . . . toilet paper . . . office . . . toilet paper. Couldn’t see the connection so I asked “What does going to work early have to do with toilet paper?” and he said “I need to steal a few roles from the men’s room and then go home”. The idea of other people from work seeing the guy I was dating steal toilet paper for his impending number 2 was too embarrassing to comprehend. I tried to explain that the grocery store was on the way to his apartment and he could just go there and buy some. His reply? “Toilet paper is expensive!” It is? Since when? I tried to reason with him for a few more minutes and that didn’t work. Finally I gave him money to buy his own paper. The idea of a 28-year-old man stealing toilet paper from his office is just too horrible to comprehend.

We soon broke up.

Can You Buy Some Class at K-mart?

From: Jentastic

No matter how many Lifetime movies or Afterschool specials a girl sits through, there comes a time in her life when she settles for a man who’s not good enough for her. Maybe it’s because she’s horny, drunk, lonely or all of the above, she dates a guy who’s just not 100% right in the head. Or even 60% right in the head.

I dated Kevin (not his real name but I already hate someone named Kevin so I might as well use this as my name for all men I hate—no offense to actual nice Kevins, if you even exist!) for only about 3 months. We worked together and his tales of cheapness were already legendary around the office. Rumor had it that he’d go out for happy hour drinks and say “Hey, why don’t you get the first round and I’ll get the second round” and after the first round he’d say he was using the restroom and never come back. So with a story like that I really can’t say I wasn’t warned. However, a shallow dating pool and nickel beer night will cause you to do strange pathetic things.

Kevin and I went out for our first date after working together for a while. He’d invited me to dinner and a movie. Dinner was at the Steak ‘n Shake. OK, I would have rather gone to a nicer place but it’s not a huge deal, right? There was a definite kitsch value to the dinner at Steak ‘n Shake. Plus, they’re supposedly “famous for steakburgers”. After dinner we drove to the theatre. He said “Do you think you’ll want to get candy or something” and I said “A movie isn’t a movie without candy” so he pulls up in front of the Kmart and says we can get our candy there and then go to the movie. OK, I do this all the time with my friends but on a date? A first date? It’s a little odd. If you can’t afford to take a girl to Olive Garden and buy her some Goobers you probably should just not date for a while. We went into K-mart and he bought himself some candy and a large bottle of water—which he then hid in my purse since the theatre didn’t allow outside food. When we got to the theatre I decided I’d get my own soda but time was running out before the movie started. Kevin forgot his wallet in the car so he offered to take my $5 bill and get me a soda while I use the restroom before the movie. I come out and he’s bought me the kiddie small (a $2.30 value) and KEPT MY CHANGE. AND he was drinking out of my soda!

I have no excuse for the fact that I went out with him again.

I Don't Ever Want to Fight About Money Again (so forget that I owe you)

My ex's memory is beyond selective. I believe it is pre-programmed. You owe him money? He remembers. He owes you money? He 'forgets'.

I would have been willing to believe him the FIRST time he said he forgot he owed me $150... but when he used that excuse a SECOND time?

I had put a weekend trip on my credit card after we had agreed to split the cost of the hotel. Of course whenever we took any trips we took MY car, but that's another story. So we get home from the trip and he doesn't bring up when he's going to pay me back. Weeks go by. Nothing. My mistake was not addressing the fact that he owed me a little hunk of change. I didn't want to seem 'materialistic' or 'greedy' or that I was 'keeping tabs'. This is not being a 'liberated woman'. A liberated woman (or man) can be generous but also recognize when she (or he) is being taken advantage of and calls it out.

A few months go by and we're sitting around my apartment and he complains to me that his friend hadn't paid him $80 he owed him. I'm seething quietly, thinking to myself how crappy it is that he remembers that someone owes him, but doesn't bring up that he still owes ME.

So we go out that night and he buys me one (1) beer. After we leave the bar, we go to a movie theater where they have waiters and waitresses and you can order food and drinks. I don't order anything, but he orders a bucket of beer (a six pack). I don't drink any of them. When the check comes around he doesn't reach for his wallet. The waiter comes around again. He still hasn't paid. I whisper to him that he should get out his cash so the guy doesn't have to come around again and he says, "Aren't you going to pay this time? I mean, I bought you a beer at the bar...." At this point I implode.

When we get back to my apartment I tell him why I'm pissed: you complain about people owing you money when you owe me money, you make NO mention of when you intended to pay me (if ever), you buy me ONE beer and you expect me to pay for SIX of yours? He tells me, "I forgot. I swear I'll pay you next week. I don't ever want money to come between us again."

To his credit, he paid me back. But he must have forgotten that he used this line before, because a year later he used it again when we took a trip to New Orleans and he 'forgot' to pay me back for the hotel again. Memory. It is a strange thing.

The Ice Man Cometh

There are so many tales to choose from, but I’m going to start with my favorite. I broke up with ex-boyfriend -- let’s call him CHAD (number one, because I find that name very funny and number two, because it’s one letter away from CHUD) – and we decided he would move out of my house in two weeks. The first thing he did was complain about how he was going to have to live in a one bedroom apartment and…gasp!...have to take on a roommate, in contrast to the pretty sweet arrangement he had with me, paying one quarter of the mortgage, while having someone cook and clean for him (not to mention do all the yard work). Let’s just skip the “what was I thinking” part to the rest of the story. Anyway, I was supposed to feel guilty about his reduced circumstances because he chose to have a shitty job and didn’t make much money. Anyway, he did move out within the deadline and I figured well, that’s that. Then, one day, I went to iron something and it was missing. Odd, I thought. I just figured I put it somewhere else and forgot about it. A few days later, I went into my freezer to get ice and all the ice trays but one were missing. Ok, clearly, I did not misplace the ice trays! Was I going crazy? Then, I got it. CHAD had taken the iron…and the ice trays. I didn’t think I needed to change the locks. He’d been letting himself in while I was at work without telling me. I emailed him and accused him of taking my ice trays. His defense? He needed ice trays! Yes, instead of paying $1 for his own ice trays, he drove all the way to my house to steal them. Does it get any cheaper than that? Well, yes, probably. I had the locks changed the very next day!

Have a good story about your cheap ex? Email it to!

Doesn't Every Girl Want a Cartman for her Anniversary?

How could I love and hate Eric Cartman so much? How could a stuffed doll cause so much inner turmoil? I am a nation divided against itelf. Allow me to give you the DL:

Our first anniversary rolls around. I'm ecstatic. This is a good sign. We've been together a year now, everything seems to be going well...I wasn't expecting a ring or anything, but maybe something meaningful, thoughtful or somehow significant.

He had me open up some small presents first - a CD, some candy...but when he presented me with 'the big box' I was stoaked. Here is was - the present of meaning or significance. Maybe he fooled me by putting a pretty necklace in a big box? Maybe he made me something? I looked up at him and smiled as I opened the box. I looked down into the box and there he was. The fat bastard of South Park. I frantically asked myself, "Shit! What facial expression do I wear?!?!" I mean, he did give me a present, but a stuffed Cartman? I kissed him, thanked him, put Cartman on my bed for a few weeks then stuffed him in a box in my closet.

On our second anniversary I got a little stuffed polar bear and a few used records.

Two shirts I handstitched for him, a Harman Kardon cd burner, a chromatic harmonia, a large and very cool velvet painting and a beautiful Western suit. What did he manage to buy himself after buying me an equally paltry birthday present? A fifth electric guitar.

Powerbar Struggle

Anyone who knows me knows I love to cook and I especially enjoy sharing my cooking with others. There's something very satisfying about feeding friends, lovers and family. But hey, not everyone likes to cook and that's fine. You can still be generous with your prepackaged or microwavable foodstuffs, right?

I used to cook about once or twice a week for my ex-boyfriend and myself because it was something I liked to do when we were planning on spending the night in. He was always appreciative, but never offered to help pay for the groceries. I was always annoyed by this, but I convinced myself that it wasn't right for me to expect him to offer to help pay for the groceries since I was the one offering to cook (MISTAKE). But then he wouldn't even necessarily offer to pay for my meal the next time we ate out. Here and there, but not as a general rule. I paid for a lot of our restaurant dining.

About a year into our relationship, we were getting ready to go for a hike and I hadn't eaten that morning. I knew he kept a few Powerbars in his otherwise bare cupboard (why would he keep it stocked when he had my pantry and refrigerator to pillage?) so I called out to him from the kitchen, "Hey! I'm taking one of your Powerbars." No big deal, right? He had three bars in there, he never cooked for me, it pained him to pay for my meal when we went out to restaurants so I usually paid. But most importantly, I was hungry and he had food at his place. He came rushing into the kitching from the bedroom wailing, "Nooooooooooooooo!" I turned and looked incredulously at him. He saw my shock and disgust and immediately changed his tune. "Uh...I was just kidding! You can have one!" I shook my head and put the .99 cent Powerbar back.