Overspending is easy when money isn't 'real'
Posted
Feb 01 2008, 11:52 AM
by
Donna Freedman
I used to feel a small, secret scorn for people who couldn't control their debit-card spending.
Explanations like "It just doesn't seem like real money" or "It's hard to keep track of how much you've spent" made me wonder why in the world it wouldn't seem real or why it would be hard to monitor.
After all, it comes out of an account into which you've put real money, and out of which you'd pay bank fees if you overspent.
Then I got my Husky card.
The Husky card is the University of Washington's student ID, but it carries more than just an unflattering photo. It's your transit pass. It gives you library privileges. In huge classes, it's what you show at midterms and finals to prove it's really you taking the tests.
And it can hold a dollar value, just like a debit card.
One card fits all
Most students load their cards with a huge chunk of cash at the beginning of the school year and use them to pay for meals, photocopies, library fees, parking, books and even vending machine items.
Since more and more off-campus restaurants are accepting the Husky card, you can buy a bowl of pho or some teriyaki with it, too.
As a rule I pack lunch and snacks, and buy textbooks online. But I keep a few dollars on the card for the rare occasions when I drive to school. (Parking is only $2.78 per day if I'm willing to use the way-way-out lot. Which, of course, I am.)
Early last week, I decided to put $25 on my card so I'd be set for a long, long time. Here's the thing, though: I knew I had $25 on my card. And I started spending it.
It just didn't seem like real money.
Cough drops and colloquium
It started innocently enough. I was sick last week and bought some cough drops (90 cents) from a campus convenience store.
The next day I had an asthma attack before my Spanish class, and a Diet Coke ($1.15) and a couple pieces of candy (30 cents) helped calm me down. Additional cough drops would have been smarter, but chocolate is much more comforting. It also takes away any lingering traces of the inhaler, which tastes like New Jersey smells. (That's my home state, so I'm allowed to say this.)
The following day I felt so crummy I forgot to pack a lunch. Between my second and third classes I bought a slice of pizza, a cold drink and an ice cream sandwich in the student union ($4.15, and yes, I know this isn't healthy eating). After rereading a chapter of Edward Said's "Orientalism," I was so groggy that I bought another Diet Coke ($1.15) to keep me awake for my next class, "Colloquium in the History of Ideas: The Interpretation of Texts and Cultures."
Afterward I missed the bus I wanted, so I went back to the student union to check e-mail. By then it was 5 p.m. and the chocolate was whispering my name once more, to the tune of another 30 cents' worth of small candies.
On the way home, I realized that I'd spent $5.60 and I was still hungry -- and that in three days I'd used up almost one-third of the $25 I thought would last for months.
It really can be hard to keep track of how much you spend.
Dollar vs. debit
The point isn't whether or not I should feel bad about spending money. It's that I was astounded at how easy it was to do when the money wasn't "real."
If I'd had to take actual dollars out of my wallet to buy those extra sodas and snacks, would I have done it? Maybe. But probably not.
The Husky card, on the other hand, felt like a free pass to buy whatever I felt I needed. I certainly didn't need all those things, but being sick made me want to cosset myself.
It was a humbling experience, and an educational one. Until now, I'd thought that people who overspent with debit cards were just making excuses for personal failures of will.
So now I'm eating my words. At least I'm not paying for them with a Husky card.
