Let the current financial tsunami be a lesson to you, arrogant plebeian consumer: greed cometh before a fall. When dealing with money, it's best to crouch in a permanent mental fetal position and brace for the end of the world. At no time is this more apparent than at the holidays, when middle-class people max out their Capital One cards to buy flat-screen TVs from big-box retailers and cubic zirconium from Kay's.
I'm reminded of my grandmother, a woman who lived through the Great Depression and whose Etienne Aigner wallet (half off at Jordan Marsh, thank you very much) was overflowing with coupons. I was rifling through her fridge once when I discovered, wedged between cans of Market Basket ginger ale, a plain envelope. Inside were hundreds of dollars and receipts dating from the Kennedy administration. This, my friends, is the right way to freeze one's assets. Playing it safe in uncertain times means checking your ego and resorting to desperate measures. So pass the imitation eggnog and allow me to share some tips for thrifty holiday money management.
Get to know your friendly bank teller
I used to bank exclusively online. But, see, the people who run your online account exemplify why Darwinism is a crock of shit. They are the cockroaches of the job market. Long after oncologists and teachers have taken to panhandling in the streets, these people will be answering your 1-800 calls and mispronouncing your name. Indeed, Bank of America once confused me with someone named Carab Basin and deducted $12 from my account per month for some sort of triplets-with-no-chromosomes research foundation. Don't debit-card anything. Withdraw money directly from your bank and pay for those gifts in cold hard cash. You'll miss the money more. Moreover, you'll be able to sneer directly at the moron who knows you have only $67 in your checking account.
Don't travel to places you can't afford
Would I like to winter in Bermuda? Why, yes. I'd like nothing more than to toast my pasty skin on a beach while Juan and Tito spritz me with Champagne. Hell, I'd like to go any place that doesn't offer Keno in the lobby and free meals to anyone recently out of jail. You want to know where I spend my holiday vacation? At my mother-in-law's condo on Cape Cod, where I share my bed with four obese cats. It might not be glamorous, but it's free. I can cover my watery eyes with sunglasses, and the rash I get from her Christmas Tree Shop quilts blends winningly with my hives.
Give the stingiest presents dignity will allow
A few years ago, my sister-in-law gave everyone on her gift list homemade ketchup in tiny mason jars. Then she jetted off for a month-long vacation in Australia. I was appalled. But I was also intrigued. Give Aunt Hortense some Girl Scout cookies wrapped in holly and call it a day. Then count your money and chortle with evil glee.
Don't pay other people to do things you can easily do yourself
I used to spend $25 every other week to get my nails done, until it dawned on me that I was throwing away perfectly good money to listen to a woman tell me about her annoying best friend, her ungrateful children, and why I need an eyebrow wax. Thing is, I already have relatives. And now I have 50 extra bucks for my holiday wet bar.
