My thrifty friends invited me to a birthday party. I came home ravenous.
I have friends I call the frugal sort. They pinch pennies with everythingfood, clothes, you name it. They arent poor, quite the oppositetheyre well-off, never strapped for cash. They could easily afford plenty.
I only visit them for special occasions. Otherwise, we just ring each other up. About a month ago, they invited me over for a birthday gathering. I wentand returned home absolutely starving.
That morning, I tucked their present into my handbag and headed off to work. Theyd asked me round for four oclock. During lunch break I only had coffee and a couple of biscuits, thinking, Ill eat my fill at the party.
So, just before the appointed hour, I landed at their place. I handed over the gift, wished joy and good health. I joked that I was hungry as a bear, hadnt eaten so I could really tuck in. They laughed and reassured me, Of course! Its all ready.
There were six guests plus the hosts. When I followed them into the sitting room there was no dining table, just a low side table. No chairs either, just a tiny sofa squeezed up against the wall. It wouldve been lovely, I thought, to have an ordinary meal after work in a proper setting, not eight of us crammed onto a sofa worthy of dolls. But all righta buffet it was.
My friend arranged a little round table with nibbles. I rather regretted having only two biscuits for lunch. On the table (yes, I counted, and feel no shame) were a few dainty plates. Each held eight slices: eight slivers of smoked sausage (my favourite), eight thin cuts of cold meat, eight neat slices of cheese. There were also eight wafer-thin slices of fresh tomatoes and eight curls of cucumber. Everything was sliced with surgical precision, but arranged prettily. Oh, and there were two miniature bowls of salad. The fruiteight well-chosen pieces. The bountiful spread was crowned by a single bottle of wine. In short: eat and drink, dear guests.
I sat nibbling my sliver of sausage and cheese, yearning for more. I didnt even want to drink the wine, for fear of feeling emptier than ever. My friend said, Ill fetch something hot. I cheered up, imagining a steaming plateful. The hostess emerged with the hot dish.
Each plate had a solitary roasted potato and one chicken drumstick. Precisely one per guest! What a lark. At least the birthday cake was normal sized. We had a jolly time all told, but after an hour and a half, I left, hungrier than when Id arrived.
On my way home, I popped into the shop and bought proper groceries, then had a full meal in my own kitchen. Thats how my friends managed to save on their guests.
Why invite people to a birthday if you cantor wonthost them properly?
