being cheap.

listening to : agoraphobia - incubus
reading : financial accounting - reynolds, sanders, hillman et al
(this, my father announced, holding the antiquated book aloft, is the bible of finance. then he added, in all seriousness, make it your wife.)
watching : van wilder

i was running some errands in town today when i stumbled upon a very ghetto-looking internet cafe. seeing as how i already spend an unhealthy amount of time on the internet at home, i decided to venture in and look up my next errand on the internet. oh i am incorrigible. in my defence, it must be pointed out that the sun was bleeding people all over the place, so i had to seek shelter indoors.

the large sign outside promised 4 dollars for an hour of surfing or 8 cents per minute. i went in, signed up for a computer and logged on at 3.47.

at 4.17 sharp i logged off and made my way to the cashier. a caucasian couple were in front of me and they were visibly annoyed with the owner. i used it for 50 minutes and it costs me 4 dollars. i could've just used it for another 10 and it would've come up to the same, the caucasian man told his wife. she shook her head as he pocketed his change. business is business, the cashier announced, as if he just read that gem off a fortune cookie. he was being exceptionally annoying. the couple stepped aside as they fumbled with their belongings and i approached the cashier. he took a sip from his mug of coffee, adjusted his spectacles, took a good look at me and then consulted the numbers on his screen. he stabbed some numbers into his calculator before showing it to me. that's two dollars and forty cents, he pointed out with a smile, in case i was from a country that doesn't use numbers.

i smiled back and laid a two dollar note on the counter. when he realised i wasn't fishing for change, he repeated, forty cents. the caucasian couple were looking on with interest.

the cashier continued. thirty minutes at 8 cents a minute is two-forty. he was getting irritated.

i slid the note closer to him. half an hour at 4 dollars an hour is two dollars. the caucasian man laughed. the cashier turned visibly red, grabbed the note and muttered, go.

ah, i thought, as i left the shop, business is business.