When I put out my initial request for cheapery stories, everyone understood that this meant to send me a few sentences about a little thing they did to save money. Everyone, that is, except the one knucklehead who sent me a rambling, 900-word screed about… something.
That knucklehead is Nick McBurney, a guy I went to high school with. He works in New York City but lives in Hoboken, which instantly establishes his credentials as a cheapskate. I’ve decided to go ahead and publish his response (almost) in full, and call it a guest blog.
Dear Matt,
First of all, I love your blog, and your hot body.
[Editor’s note: at this point I had to cut a couple paragraphs, as things got a little out of control right out of the gate. We pick things up once he calms down a little.]
…I will admit it: I love to party. I can’t stop. I won’t stop. But, after a few too many buckets of red paint were liberally splashed all over town, I found that my finances could not support my social agenda: a six pack of beer for the pre-party, a round of shots at the bar, a cab uptown for some late-night Chicken and Rice. My bank account was being pillaged by four little words: “This one’s on me.” Even though times are tight, no one, especially in New York City, wants to be called “cheap.” It’s a big scarlet letter on your reputation that makes everyone think you are only out for yourself. If you’re not contributing to the party, you might as well toss out your cell phone, because no one is going to be calling on Friday or Saturday night to see if you want to grab a drink at a watering hole or two.
“But how can I save money and still appear to be ‘hip’ in the eyes of my peers?” you may be asking. I submit to you and your readers my moment of cheapery: homebrewing.
I started brewing beer in college for the same reason anyone does anything in college: chicks, man. I thought my demonstration of resourcefulness combined with my ability to provide decent beer at a moment’s notice would be valued qualities to members of the opposite sex. I hadn’t yet considered the financial benefits of my endeavor until I graduated and moved out on my own. At an average $6 for a pint in The City (and we’re not even talking the good stuff, people), a night out of drinking can easily run you $25-$30 (or more, for that all-night wild child out there). Homebrewing your own beer can yield you between 45 and 55 bottles for the same price, excluding the initial investment in equipment. Sure, depending upon the tech you want to use, equipment kits can range anywhere from $75-$125. But like any worthwhile investment, the more you use it, the cheaper it gets.
I spent around $100 in total on my kit and I now have pretty much everything I need to create a variety of styles and flavors. Since I began in September of last year, the two batches I’ve made so far have netted around 90 delicious beers. The total cost for ingredients and equipment was around $160 (that’s just over $1.75 per beer). Were I to whip up a third potion, something I am planning to start this month, the cost per beer drops to just under $1.50. Try and find me a bar anywhere north of the Mason-Dixon that serves better than PBR at that price. Sure, the six weeks of waiting while your beer ferments is like a Siren call that would have even Odysseus tied to the mast. However, having a solid cache of beer ready at a moment’s notice is well worth the wait. I’ll never again show up to a party empty-handed.
Alright, Matty. I hope my moment inspires your readers to save money without abandoning their social lives. Keep on keepin’ on, friends.
Your pal,
Nick
Long time reader, first-time contributor
Well, there you have it. I’ve entertained thoughts of taking up homebrewing and filling my apartment with the sweet aroma of hops, but I’d never considered the financial angle until now. It may be time to take the plunge.
If you’ve got any thoughts on homebrewing or beer in general (I’m always happy to talk about beer, even if there’s not a financial angle), email me at [email protected]. And if you’ve got any cheapery stories – preferably shorter than this one – send them to the same address. And don’t forget to submit your best budget-friendly recipes while you’re at it. Basically, just email me about any old thing you want to talk about, and I’ll probably find a way to get it in the blog.
See you in the funny pages…
