I just did a radio interview about frugal living with the Pulitzer-Prize-winning journalist, Patt Morrison.  (See the link in the sidebar.) We had a number of call-ins, and a few people struck me as not deserving to call themselves thrifty.  I’d say they were just plain CHEAP!  

One guy bragged about how he invites ladies out to lunch, then says he has to make a short stop at Costco.  He picks up some small item, then steers his date to the food department where they fill up on free samples.  The date then invariably says, “I’m not hungry anymore.  Let’s not bother with lunch.”  This guy is a shameless cheapazoid!  

My friend, Ann Rita met a similar guy online. They chatted a few times on the phone, and finally agreed to get together for brunch. As they studied the menu, he suggested, “Why don’t we just split an order of toast?” I would have replied, “Why don’t you have the toast and I’ll just split!”  

Then there was the wealthy woman who invited us to her penthouse apartment for lunch, handed out takeout menus, and collected our money when the food came!

TIP-TOP
I’ll never understand richies who are cheap tippers: why not share the wealth? My parents were poor, but they always tipped generously because they had compassion for working people. This compassion does not always cross class lines. I attended a high-society wedding where private buses were hired to bring us from the church to the reception, and then back to our hotel. When we got to our final destination the host on our bus, the groom’s brother – the scion of an old-money family – neglected to tip the driver. When someone (me) took him aside and suggested that a gratuity might be in order, his drunken response was something like “Why? He’s already been paid.” So much for noblesse oblige.

Like I said – maybe it’s a class thing. When I was in college, Toby got a summer job as a bellboy in a Catskills hotel. One weekend the hotel was taken over by a group of gentlemen who were there for an international business conference. The business was crime, and the gentlemen were Cosa Nostra. Toby never got less than a hundred dollar tip for carrying bags. Well, that’s only fair: Uzis are heavy.

YANKEE-PANKY
Moneyed people are not the only ones who can be stingy. There was a little general store down the road from our country house. George, the owner, never turned on the lights in order to save money: a good example of “Penny-wise, pound foolish.” Needless to say, business was not booming. Not too many people want to poke around in the dark for a dusty can of baked beans from 1947.

One day I asked George if he would put aside the local paper for me each week. I wanted to be sure that it would not be sold out when we arrived on Fridays, since it contained the all-important auction and garage sale listings. George, with his sharp sense of business acumen, agreed to save the paper – as long as I gave him the twenty-five cents in advance.

ON THE HOUSE
The richer you are, the more freebies you command – from Oscar-ceremony gowns to comped suites in Vegas. This is a two-way street: the dress designer wants his label to be seen, and the hotel figures they’ll make the room fee back – and more – at the blackjack table. But it’s not just celebs who expect freebies.

When I do my solo shows, I am amazed at how many people expect to be given tickets. Of course, you have to comp agents, casting people, and the press. But then there are folks who crawl out of the woodwork – like the distant acquaintance who requested that I comp him because he wrote online reviews. I promised him a ticket, and he asked if I could make it two. He brought a bimbo date, never wrote a review, and I had to cover the cost of the two seats. On the other hand, I offered Oscar-winner Estelle Parsons freebies, which she graciously turned down, saying that she wanted to support the theatre. Some folks have class.

The lead actor of a Broadway mega-hit had a milestone birthday. The cast and crew had to chip in for a cake because the producers refused to pay for it.

Bob Hope was generous with his time and talent, but he was also a notorious tightwad. When he invited his writers to his house for a brainstorming session, he would advise them in advance to bring their own orange juice.

ALL IN THE FAMILY
The worst cheapskates are people who are stingy with their own families.

•    Peter, a real estate mogul, refused to give his son a college graduation present, saying “I don’t believe in buying affection.” As it turned out, the kid had secretly dropped out of school to do drugs, but still…
•    Sally’s father was a wealthy entrepreneur. When he died, he left his estate to any future grandchildren: if there were no grandchildren, the money would go to an animal charity. Sally was forty-four and her sister was fifty-two: both unmarried and childless. As it turned out, Sally met a guy and had a baby at the age of forty-five. She dearly loves her daughter, but sometimes I think she got pregnant just to spite dear old dad.
•    My Danish father-in-law, Harry, was a lawyer married to a society woman. Their wedding present to us was a little tablecloth and a pair of pewter candlesticks. My own father, a poor immigrant tailor, gave us two thousand dollars. I still managed to squeeze a little cash out of Harry. Whenever I saw him, I would say, “Oh, gee, I forgot my wallet. Could I borrow a hundred Kroner?” Harry was your typically reserved Scandinavian, so I knew he would be too polite to ever ask for the money back. Yes, I am a shameless whore – but cheapskates need to be brought to justice.

A theatre producer had agreed to mount one of my shows. He suggested that Benni and I meet him for lunch to go over the contract, and he named the restaurant. At the end of the meal, not only did Mr. Producer not pick up the check, but he divided it into three, and paid his share of one/third. I should have known then that it would be a mistake doing business with this guy. Ten years after the production, he still owes us money.

If any of you out there have some good cheapskate stories, please share them with the rest of us.  Thanks!