Brendan Polmer: Cash-strapped after NYC

I went to New York City last weekend, and now I am broke. I am so broke. I have less than $100 left in my checking account, and even less on my GWorld.

Going to New York City for a weekend is like gambling in a casino. You have a lot of fun while you’re there, but once you leave you realize what a douchebag you’ve been toward your personal finances. For instance, here’s my basic itinerary: bar, ATM, bar, ATM, bar, pizza parlor, bar, ATM, club, ATM, diner, bar, ATM.

I spent most of my money paying for a train ticket. Normally, I would have just shelled out the small amount of cash for the Chinatown Express, but my last experience on that bus made me value my life a little bit more than the $20 it costs to take it. Last time I took it, I hadn’t even made it out of D.C. before the bus broke down on New York Avenue. On the way back to D.C., I was told to put my luggage on the bottom of a bus that was actually headed for Philadelphia by a woman who did not speak English, but was able to shout while pointing at a white bus, “Dee-Cee! Dee-Cee!” Thankfully a stranger pointed out her mistake to me before I boarded the wrong bus.

Back to New York City. It is like D.C. on steroids. Everything is bigger, brighter, badder and more intense. Even their crazy people are crazier than ours. We often see people in D.C. talking to themselves and screaming obscenities towards the sky all the time, but in New York- whoa! They’re everywhere. I don’t really know what drove them to go insane, but something tells me it may have been because at one point or another while living in New York, they completely ran out of money. Had I chosen to stay any longer than I did, I could have easily become one of them.

Now that I have very minimal funds left for the remainder of the semester, I’m not quite sure how I’ll survive the next few weeks. Food-wise, I think I’ll be able to get by on two meals a day, plus snacks. In terms of alcohol and other amenities, I may have to chill out for a bit. But I guess that’s okay; I need to focus on other things anyhow – like class.

Oh yeah, I’m a student . right .

Oh, man! There’s only two weeks of class left. But there’s still so much left to do. How is it that months can go by in the blink of an eye with minimal effort, yet the last couple weeks of the semester always seem to drag on forever with the impeding knowledge of final projects, exams, evaluations and papers looming in the very near, or rather, immediate, future?

“Don’t worry, it will all work itself out, just like always,” is what I often find saying to myself while waiting to fall asleep at night, as I wait for the buzz of Thursday night’s beer to fade out so I can finally pass out, only to wake up four hours later for a class I haven’t prepared for.

It’s around this time during the end of the semester that reality repeatedly slaps me in the face like an abusive pimp that is the looming pressure of final grades.

“Look at you! You’re going out tonight, and you haven’t even started your final project yet!” *SLAP!* “What are you, some kind of punk-ass rich kid, spending all your parent’s money on booze and Metro cards!?” *SLAP!* “Don’t you realize how much money it’s costing your family to go this school!?” *SLAP!* “You better get over to Gelman and secure yourself a study space before someone else takes your favorite spot, bitch!” *SLAP!*

Okay, okay! I get it! I’m all over it, like white on rice.

Summer is almost here, and if I’m planning on spending any time at home in peace and quiet, then I need make sure that I end up with good grades at the end of the semester.

But more importantly, can anybody sell me some Adderall? Damn! After New York City I just can’t afford it!

-The writer, a sophomore majoring in journalism and music, is a Hatchet humor columnist. He will be taking donations for his alcohol fund through the rest of the semester.

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