Craig Dunlop: the cost of living crisis is a cheapskate’s time to shine

Some people were born tall and some beautiful but others were born cheap. He has always copped flak for it but the cost of living crisis is what this Herald Sun journalist has been prepping for his whole life.

Journalist Craig Dunlop is a self-confessed cheapskate.

For cheapskates like me, the cost of living crisis is a time to shine.

Some people were born tall, some people were born beautiful and some people were born skinny.

I was born cheap.

For as long as I can remember, people have criticised me for being sensible with money and also for leaving the pub “before it’s my round”.

Those critics are the very same people who are now whining about inflation and the cost of, well, everything.

I get it. Everything is more expensive than it used to be.

Going to the supermarket feels crushing, and the prices of chocolates and beer are also up, meaning you even get slugged when you try to eat your feelings or drown your sorrows.

But I have been preparing for this my whole life.

Craig Dunlop does not believe that takeaway coffee or food is worth the high price.

Here are some basic truths and some simple tips, for starters: craft beer is always overpriced and mostly awful; if you wear terrible clothes to work, only a few people will say anything about it to your face; takeaway coffee is not worth $6; leftovers are the best lunch.

Think of me as a kind of Agony Aunt, except I’m not your aunt, I’m just some guy who likes cheap things.

It is baffling to me how some people seem to get a kick out of spending money.

There is another way to live: being a cheapskate is the real thrill, and it’s also weirdly comforting.

You can see this on just about any tram. Most people resent paying $5 to get to work on a form of transport which smells as if it has been soaked in urine. Look closely, and you’ll see that people board, lurk near a door with their Myki in their pocket, and then lunge for a machine whenever they see a ticket inspector.

I can’t be seen to be condoning illegality, but if these people (and there are lots of them, especially on the no. 86 tram) can get a thrill from saving $5 every morning, imagine how much joy you can get from being a cheapskate all day, every day.

Being cheap can also be romantic. Years ago, I decided that every first date I would go on would cost less than $10.

Mates warned me this was a bad idea, but several women came on a second date. By second date, I mean a walk and a packet of chips.

If you want to discuss this further, give me a call, come ‘round to mine and we can have a chat over a nice refreshing glass of tap water.