My frugal friends invited me to their birthday bash. I came home absolutely ravenous.
I call these folks my frugal friends. They’re experts at saving every penny, squeezing value out of everything from food to jumpers. They’re not exactly hard-up; in fact, they’re quite comfortably off. Theres always money jingling about in their pockets, if you get my drift.
I only ever pop round when theres some special occasion. Otherwise, we just ring each other for a chat. Last month, they sent me an invitation for a birthday gathering. I showed up, and let me tell you, I left hungrier than a squirrel in January.
That morning, Id slipped the birthday gift Id already bought into my handbag and trotted off to work. I was due at their place for four oclock. Normally, Id have a proper lunch, but I figured birthday celebration = birthday spread, so I made do with a coffee and two shortbread biscuits for lunch. In short, I intentionally didnt fill up beforehand.
When the clock struck four, I strolled over to their place, handed over the present, wished them all the happiness and health they could possibly stand. I quipped, Im so hungry I could eat a horse! Havent had any lunch for this very reason. Of course, I said it with a grin, and my mate piped up, No worries, everythings ready!
There were six guests plus our hosts. Upon entering the lounge, I scanned for a dining table but found nothing. It dawned on me theyd gone for a buffet-style affair. Not a chair in sight, just one measly little sofa. Now, I do enjoy a good sit-down meal after work, where youre not jammed elbow-to-elbow with seven others on a piece of furniture barely bigger than a towel. But, well, buffet it is.
My friend had arranged a tiny round table with the spread. Oh, how I regretted that biscuit lunch.
On the table (and I swear, I counted the slicesno shame here), there were a few dainty plates. Each held exactly eight slices: eight of smoked sausage (a personal favourite), eight of cold meat, eight slivers of cheddar. For the veggies, eight slices of tomato and cucumber, all sliced paper-thin but beautifully arranged. There were also two very petite bowls of salad. Fruit, as well, meticulously calculated for eight souls. To wash down this feast, a single bottle of wine sat in lonely grandeur. In summary, Eat and drink, dear guestsjust not too much.
There I sat, nibbling my meagre morsel of sausage and cheese, verging on desperate hunger. Didnt dare touch the wineon a stomach so empty, one glass and Id be booking a cab home. My friend announced, Time for something hot! and I briefly felt relief. Surely, the main event had arrived.
The lady of the house produced a plate stacked with tiny roasted potatoes and chicken drumsticksprecisely one per person. Honestly, I nearly snorted. At least the cake came in a size youd recognise.
All in all, we had a jolly enough time. After about ninety minutes, I bade my farewells and made a beeline for the local Tesco. There I treated myself to a real meal. Thats how my friends managed to save money on their guests.
Really, why invite folks round for a birthday if you dont know how (or dont fancy) putting on a proper spread?
