Seeing your classmates this excited is priceless. We'll help you scratch together the coin so you can be there to witness it.
It's come to my attention that some Marquette students are displeased with the price increase for student Fanatic tickets this season; apparently, it now costs an MU student a whopping $110 (American) to watch sixteen men's basketball games. For you non-math majors: this works out to a cost of about six-and-half bucks (or so) a game.
As Anonymous Eagle's resident youth guidance counselor, it's my duty to help the younglings scratch together enough coin to ensure that there's an acceptable number of students in the crowd for every home game.
So let's get down to brass tacks: six dollars is a pittance, kids. I can save you $6 sixteen times without breaking a sweat:
- The new Wilco album came out today. It's retailing on Amazon for $5.99. Maybe you think listening to Wilco makes you arty and mysterious and interesting. It doesn't. And in case you're thinking of protesting: "But I really dig Wilco, and I want to hear the new stuff," lemme save you the time: The Whole Love sounds just like their earlier shit. You're welcome.
- That $6 pint of beer you're thinking about ordering at Murph's at 1:14 a.m. tonight? Have a water instead. For one, you've got class tomorrow, and for two: that eighth beer isn't going to exponentially increase your charisma and suddenly make you irresistible to the co-ed who's been doing her best to sidestep your clumsy advances all night. You're going to have to trust me on this one, because I've been there: you're a mess. Go to bed.
- Speaking of your night out: that Jimmy John's sandwich on the stumble home from Murph's seems awful tempting, right? Resist it. You're going to end up wearing most of the mayonnaise and lettuce when the sandwich disintegrates in your drunk hands, and more importantly: saltines are a much more effective hangover deterrent. Have 40 and hit the sheets.
- The next morning, there's another six bucks saved because you didn't have the eighth beer and opted for the saltines: you won't need the $6 colon-buster coffee from Starbucks to combat your hangover. (And, let's be honest: your classes start at 10:00 a.m., and you get out of bed at 9:48. Splash some cold water on your face and you'll be fine.)
- To finish up the food-themed bullets: a large pizza from Papa John's is going to run you about $8, right? (That's what it cost ten years ago, anyway. I assume that the cost of production of pizza has not significantly increased in that time, unless there's a pepperoni shortage that I missed.) Go to the Pick 'n Save across the Cesar Chavez Bridge. It's two bucks for a Tombstone, at most, AND you get to eat the whole thing yourself and won't have to share with your roommates. (Or, if you'd like to save even more coin, Friend of Show @BBaranowski points out that you can get six (SIX!) Romas pizzas for $10 at Woodman's.) Quantity is more important than quality at this stage in your life, anyway.
- When you enrolled at Marquette, you got a UPass, which lets you ride the Milwaukee County buses for free. Instead of getting a cab back from Water Street to campus, take the bus. Yes, I know: the buses don't exactly scream "SAFE URBAN TRANSIT," but I promise you: people very rarely get raped on the bus. The odds are in your favor.
- Here's one for the ladies: Mrs. Q tells me the last Twilight movie comes out in a month or so. She also tells me that someone named Bella becomes a vampire (wild), wins the war (neat) and lives happily ever after (woot) with her overly possessive husband (boo) and creepy half-breed baby (sounds racist). I'm also told it's likely there will be several scenes with people making pouty faces and do-me eyes. Cool. There's another $6 saved (and two hours of your life spared).
- And speaking of things that I don't understand: Mrs. Q also tells me that the youth is buying "credits" on Facebook so you can play games like Mafia Wars or FarmVille. (Please note: I have no idea if any of these are real games. I'm putting a great deal of faith in Mrs. Q not to mislead me here.) This sounds like the lamest, dumbest arcade that's ever existed. For Christ's sake, join the actual mob or work for a real farmer. They won't charge you $6, and you'll get valuable real-life experience.
- Here's Mrs. Q's Bargain of the Century: a fleece from NorthFace costs at least $100. A fleece from Columbia costs $40. It is just as warm, and from 20 feet away, no one can tell the difference. (In case you're wondering: from five feet away, people can tell the difference. But bully for you: eighty-seven percent of adults don't care. And since you're in Milwaukee, that number rises to an impressive ninety-four percent of non-caring adults. Seriously, flag down a random stranger on Wells Street and ask if he gives a shit that you're wearing a NorthFace jacket. I'll wait for you to tabulate the results.) Sixty dollars saved.
That's about $108 right there, if my math is right, so rummage for another two in the couch cushions, and BOOM: season tickets secured.
Don't thank me. I'm just doing my job here.