Bruce Kerr: Things I just can’t afford

Something’s afoot. Some highly intelligent, subtle criminal is emptying my bank account of all its plenty- Ocean’s Eleven style. Clearly I am not at fault for having the budgeting skills of a teaspoon or the spending habits of someone who’s employed. The amount of times I have been forced to return home with my tail between my legs, asking for money to ensure my continual survival is absurd. Believing that SAAS could keep me afloat has long been my noble dream, but there are some things I just can’t afford.

Parking fines are single-handedly the most infuriating things that can be inflicted on student already riddled with debt. In a recent survey I’ve just made up, parking tickets were voted more annoying than stubbing your toe and getting a paper cut. The idea of fines is that they deter the offender from repeating their crime, a logical theory. However, fines have little effect on the stubborn, the forgetful, and the ‘set in their ways’ demographic. All of which, I profess to be. I’ve had four fines since arriving in St Andrews and I’m starting to think I’m floating the local council. When it comes to being late for a tutorial, I’ll park in his majesty Saint Salvador’s Quadrangle before being slammed with an academic alert. So sorry, Mr Parking-Correctional-Office-Man, but your tickets are just something I can’t afford.

Drinking is a notoriously expensive sport. Long have students sought ways of achieving that perfect state of inebriation with as little expenditure as possible. The robbery that takes place in the form of events and balls is perplexing, and the sheer mass quantity of them is enough to rapidly rinse your poor, battered bank account. Essentially, you’re paying to hang about in a large room with other people whilst buying drinks and listening to music. Sounds strikingly similar to what takes place in the union every night, if you add some extra suits.

It’s not long after the ride to Kinkell that you’ve drained your wallet on a couple of mixers and the card is drawn like some sort of weapon ready to take down your account balance. It’s easy to spend money that you can’t see, especially once the alcohol has altered your capacity to make fiscally rational choices. Bringing your card on a night out is a bit like punching yourself in the face, it’s really stupid and when you come back to consciousness you’ll regret it.

Food is proven to be vital to human survival; If you don’t eat it, you will die. This is known to be true. That said, I’ve been known to have my card rejected in certain food supermarkets, denying me this basic human right. I don’t particularly have any nostalgia or sentiments for the sloppy serving of hall food from first year, but I do have an aching memory of a time when all my meals were paid for and I very rarely needed to expend any capital on food. It’s a dark moment in any student’s life when such a basic cornerstone of human survival is threatened.

I’m about as capable of money management as the 2007 global banks and feel far more at home in my overdraft than anywhere else. As soon as I escape the red, my brain panics and I quickly dispose of any excess cash in order to return to the familiarity of the overdraft. So forget about that next ball you’re going to in order to raise money for reptiles in the Middle East, spend a night in the union and send a check for the difference to my account. I’ll definitely be more grateful than the bearded dragons and the result of your expense will be fairly similar.