But my dog ate it!

After spending someone else's vacation spending your dollars and theirs, you come to wonder where all the Washingtons went. You look back on a few blurry pictures, but your memory of the night is still fuzzier than the photograph. A few concert stubs, the words fading from the dampness of the back pocket, created by your crowd neighbour's sweaty... whatever. A train ticket, a plane ticket, and a TTC transfer, paid for only by the quarters in change from overpriced drinks. 

And suddenly, it dawns. Money's great, money makes the work go 'round. Money is quite possibly the only material possession in the world that can make every person in the world giddy. Just listen to the Lotto 649 testimonials. But the funny thing about money, honey, is that it ain't worth nothin' till you spend it.

And that's just what we did.

You might be wondering where I've been the last month (or, more likely, you haven't noticed at all), well, I've spent the last two fortnights digging deep into my pockets, enjoying every pretty penny I pull out. Sadly, now I look kinda like the guy off Monopoly who pulls the lining from his back pockets out of the poor broke ass of his jeans, and puffs out the floppy bottom lip in desperation. Patios, pitchers, road trips, all the summer staples of a cockaigne (word of the day, look it up kids) seem perfect, but the pocket can't take it. My wallet's burnt a black hole, and the sun's not coming to wash away my pain.

So what can a poor girl do? D-uh. Invent a thrifty, spend-free guide to summer in the city! Heed my wise advice and you'll be thankful once October rolls around and your broke ass can't even pay for a ten-dollar Halloween costume.

*feel free to leave further, more conniving ideas in the comments box

Make friends with someone who does good deeds to benefit all of his friends.

Couples and couple of friends bike rides. You can't hold hands but you can bike side-by-side, which is way cuter anyway.

House parties, house parties, house parties. I can't stress this one enough. You will spend money at the bar, and at Big Slice. It's inevitable. Avoid the temptation by mingling with drunken pals old and new, preferably the generous kind who'll spot you a drink―or two―each. And the best part is, you'll actually get to talk to your friends without straining and engaging in a little ear-to-mouth-shout-style convo when you're standing next to the amp. Which is highly beneficial, especially when you're a straight guy trying to talk to another straight guy. Or worse, when someone's got a wild (turkey) case of bourbon-breath.

Hang out at book shops and/or record shops and read and/or listen as you please. No one's gonna stop ya―you're just  learning about your future "purchases". And what wise worker would want to prevent your highly-educated purchase? 

Look for free festivals. Luminato, far past. NXNE, just  missed it. Pride Week's just begun. And even if you don't consider yourself part of the rainbow, evyerone's gonna be drunk, drugged, and crazy. Beats the $16 movies. Speaking of beats.... Beats, Breaks, and Culture―Ladytron, Thunderheist, Crystal Castles... and free haircuts. The madness! And yo, if you like dem Marley boys, you will already know you must be here for Caribana―the ultimate BYOW summer carnival.

And if  the impossible happens, you've exhausted all your options and all of the above fails: walk, nay, run to the nearest park for some quality people-watching. Allen Gardens Crack Park, Trinity-Bellwoods, Ashbridges, the world's your film noir. The only equipment? X-ray eyes and an inquisitive mind. And if you're really curious (like my roommate), bring your pa's binoculars. A little voyeurism never hurt anyone.