My brother
My brother is the family tightwad. The thing is, he lives alone and his house is always freezing. Everytime I go round he's wearing his coat.

However, he does go to his gf's house a lot and use her central heating.

He works for the council and drives a bin-lorry so he's not short of a few bob as it's not bad money for getting up at stupid o'clock and knocking off by 1pm.

Before he got the bin-lorry driving gig, he used to do those collection runs where someone phones the council and asks them to come collect a bulky item. (usually old sofas, divan bases and the like).

For a while, his house was like aladdin's cave meets Steptoe's living room.
A bookshelf, TV-cabinet/stand thing, a non-motorised running machine...

One man's trash is another man's treasure I suppose.

He does however go on about 4 decent holidays a year so maybe it's not so bad after all.
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Thu 23 Oct 2008, 23:34, 2 replies)

My dad
Would complain if anyone was on the phone too long. He simply couldn't get it into his head how the KC pricing tariff worked.

Although they've fucked about with it since, it used to be a fixed rate for local numbers. Seeing as practically everyone me and my siblings knew lived in Hull, every call was local. A local call cost 5p. Not 5p a minute, just 5p. Whether you were on for 10secs or 2 hours. It cost only 5p.

Would he listen? Would he frig.

"Come on you Maudlin, you've been on that phone nearly 10mins now"

"here's 5p then"

"don't get bloody lippy"

etc
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Thu 23 Oct 2008, 23:16, 3 replies)

ranty rant rant rant
My first ever proper b3ta 'list-y' (and inebriated) rant and probably not my last, however, tightwads, I’ve known a few:

This person knows who they are: i probably brought you upwards of 1,000 pints - even paid your rent a couple of times and your phone bill when you were down on your luck* - now you've been back in work for 18 months. Could you find it in yourself to buy me just ONE pint. No. Thanks.

*Eventually I’d get paid back and all those 50pence installments did teach me to become savvy with my own finances.

The girl at uni who asked me for three pence - THREE PENCE - contribution towards the number of matches i had used out of a box to light the oven with.

A family I know so tight that they have a teeney-tiny washing line next to the sink complete with large scale clothes hooks to hang out tea bags on so they can be dried and re-used. Now I’m all in favour of rob’s two cups one bag crusade but pleaasssseee – your tea tastes like it was rinsed off the ginger ones hair.

That is all…
(i anglepoise, Thu 23 Oct 2008, 23:05, 6 replies)

Charity shops.....
have already been mentioned.

It's not the shopping there that makes you a tightwad, but it does shift your whole set of values down a notch.

I must emphasize I do not think I am tight, if I see something I like in a charity shop I will buy it, but I never ever try stuff on, for 2 reasons. Firstly it's a faff, secondly if I don't like it I'll simply give it back. I don't ask for a refund, when they offer me a receipt I don't take it on the basis that they can have it and I've lost a couple of quid or so but it goes to a good cause.

The thing is though, your perception of what is good value goes all to cock. I've rummaged through racks of clothes and not bought something on the basis that "ooh, that's a bit pricey" even though we're talking about stuff that, instead of £3 is, heavens above, £4.50, which of course it isn't by any stretch of the imagination, but in percentage terms it is nearly twice the price!!!!

Apart from undercrackers and socks the last thing I remember buying new was my suit which I got married in, speaking of which today is my 4th wedding anniversary, and what special occasion did Mrs.Tinypod plan to mark this? Decorating our fucking bathroom, that's what! Woo. Yayy. And fucking huzzah.
(tinypod will never learn. Ever., Thu 23 Oct 2008, 23:00, 2 replies)

The cheek of it..
Few years back, I had a party in my new house. Invited a load of people along, brillant night was had by all.
Following on from the success of my session, one of my mate's decides to organise a similar shin-dig, and we get an invite in return. A week or so before the party i get a call as a reminder not to forget the up and coming session, but just as the conversation ended i was asked if they could borrow a few things. Namely some outdoor gas heaters, our gas bbq, garden chairs, tables and so on. (Basically it would have been easier to invite all their people over to ours and we let them run riot for the night.) and if that wasn't bad enough they asked if we could bring the stuff over. Suppose i should have chucked in the gas too!
how about no.
(sarcasmo needs more sleep, Thu 23 Oct 2008, 22:55, Reply)

tight pikey work mate!
Not much of a story here..but the guy I work with is sooooo fucking tight... he'd steal the last breath from a dying kitten... WANKER!
(hagga, Thu 23 Oct 2008, 22:15, 2 replies)

Same Uni mate.
If it's on offer, he buys it. Bought a £2 bottle of wine. "It'l be horrible." He was warned. "No it won't, it's a good one, it's white!".

One sip later: "Urgh, it's horrible!"

many more to come, the boy was a walking joke.
(Mong goose, Thu 23 Oct 2008, 22:11, Reply)

Skinflintedness
I am the meanest bastard in my social circle and amongst my colleagues. I bulk buy razors from the poundshop, I steal sugar sachets from pubs/McDonalds, I clip newspaper (which work provide FOC) tokens for free shit, Like Frank Spencer I steal bog rolls plus cleaning cloths, I hoard reduced food and will happily eat Morrison's own spaghetti for 3 weeks straight because I got it cheap. I drink Morrison's £1.94 per 4 pack bitter, I buy second hand, when we shut our office down and relocated; I took a hat stand, a years supply of bog paper & bleach, stationary and cleaning mousse. While on a 3 month residential course I was put up at a hotel in Pocklington where I emptied the basket of toileteries each day and then spent 30 mins pouring them into a big empty bottle.

Earlier this year I took my missus out for a meal to ASK, not very special but special enough, a nice time was had by all until the bill came and I produced a 2 for 1 voucher I clipped from the Mail. She cringed like Hell.

The sad bit is that I'm on a decent enough whack.
(SpunkyMcSpunkbubble Diddled your nubbin on, Thu 23 Oct 2008, 22:09, 1 reply)

The Loon has just reminded me.
On the A1 near Alnwick there used to be an antique place. It was situated just off the main road, and had a small road leading up to it. It might still be there, I just haven't really noticed it of late.

At the entrance there were a couple of things that looked a bit like... actually, I'm not sure what they looked like. I suppose they were a bit like the stone decorative bits people with semi-posh houses have on either side of their gate posts. They were tapered at the the top and had a round stone sitting atop them. Nothing flashy, but obviously there to add a kind of image to the establishment.

Until you got up close and realised that they were, in fact, a pair of traffic cones painted white, with a similarly painted football glued to the top of them. One of which had started to deflate.

Still brings a smile to my face, but then again, I'm easily amused sometimes.
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Thu 23 Oct 2008, 21:56, 2 replies)

I remember one tight bastard at school
who would go round asking people for 10p.

He was collecting 50p for a can of coke or whatever, and by asking for 10p he knew he could accuse people of being tight bastards if thy didn't give him the coin.

Clever twat.

It only worked once on me, as I saw him with his drink shortly after giving him the cash.
( morrybyte made a subtle namechange at, Thu 23 Oct 2008, 21:51, Reply)

We have a friend who may feature fairly prominently this week
Seeing as we're getting married next year, we decided to start the arrangements a couple of months ago.

We're having a small ceremony, with just a few close friends and the Sweary one's folks there, followed by a big fuck off party the week after. Emails were sent out to the people we want there. A reply came back from one of them.

"We'd love to be part of your big day. Just let us know when and where".

Aww that's nice, we thought, and continued reading.

"As long as you can help us out with transport".

Ah. Perhaps some misunderstanding there. Response sent, to clarify. "We will be staying for two nights, so going up the day before and don't know if you'd want to saty for two nights or not. Plus the car will be full of wedding gear and stuff, so you guys would need to make your own arrangements for getting there. We're paying for everyone's meals and drinks, but you'll need to sort your own accommodation. Sorry for not being clearer. Love, T & DG".

More than two months on and we still haven't had a response.

Tight as a gnats chuff? Oh yes.
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Thu 23 Oct 2008, 21:47, Reply)

Mate from Uni.
At uni, I was living with a mate who was REAL tight. An ebayer through and through. No matter what you buy, he will say he can get it cheaper. Try explaining you'd rather get a new game at full price then waiting a years to nock £10 off the price and he'd shake his head.

This was all fine, until he was tasked with getting a freeview box for the house.

Now bare in mind, 9 people were going in on this, you can afford to splash out right? Try the £20 one, which hardly worked. It lost sound for a second or so every so often. Always either at the punch line to a joke, or during top gear. Needless to say, this angered me.

In the next year, the box came with me and another house mate, and continued to ruin all our fun. We complained to the cheapskate, he asks if he can have it back next year, to fix it up and avoid spending any more.

One night, my house mate randomly snaps. "RIGHT! That's it!" he shouts before jumping up and twating the box. I lose it too, take a turn, we unplug it and i run upstairs to throw it out the window. Outside, he picks it up, starts swinging it onto the ground by its power cable. I run out, jump on it, punch it more. Then I fetch the hammer. A video on facebook shows me hitting said box with the hammer, spraying airfreshner into the holes I made. (I was blood drunk, I don’t know why) Video ran out before the real strength was released. Shards of plastic went flying, I exposed the innards. I smashed as much as I could, using the pointy end of the hammer to send transistors flying. Video is sent to cheapskate, he visits a few days later, looks at the ruins and says "Don't break it any more, i can sell the transistors for 50p each. "Not a cunting chance! Nothing will be salvaged from that monster!" I shout, hammer in hand. I then smash every single transistor, anything that is whole is reduced to dented, cracked or flattened waste. I then spit on it and throw it in the bin.

He didn't complain, but I was holding a hammer and had several small, bleeding cuts and a very angry look on my face.

Length? About 12 inches and able to smash electronic in seconds.
(Mong goose, Thu 23 Oct 2008, 21:47, 5 replies)

Gratuitous pussy picture
My cat Mooshka:


When I walk towards the kitchen, she runs to her dish and starts gobbling lest I should get any of her precious food.

She is a tight pussy.
( stopmeandslapme Cometh the hour, cometh your mum, Thu 23 Oct 2008, 21:33, 21 replies)

40th birthday "party"
Mate of mine invited me for his 40th birthday. This mate has been shrewd with his cash, also inherited a fair amount. What with that and working in IT, he's fairly well off.
So when I get there, and there are only 4 other guests (including a mutual friend from Uni who like me had travelled hundreds of miles to get there) I was somewhat taken aback. Not really a "party" then. Oh well.
We ate home-made chilli. Really pushing the boat out for a special occasion, that was. No champagne, in fact not much of anything. Not even a dessert.
We then travel some distance to see a band play. He gets his wife to drive who had only recently passed her test - and I'm guessing, hadn't been "allowed" to drive much, as she almost killed us on several occasions getting to the gig. Which was seated. Seated ! We were practically the youngest people there.
I spent much of the time outside the gig smoking spliff in a vain attempt to lighten myself up for the journey back to his which if anything was worse than earlier.
When we got home - there was nothing to drink. Nothing. My other Uni. friend thankfully had anticipated this and got some beers in the boot of his car.
I went to sleep in a bedroom which still had the original curtains in from when he had bought the house, these things must have been as old as the host, if not older.

I did actually tell my friend that considering how far we had travelled to see him, to not have drinks in for us was poor, to say the least.

When I had my 40th a year or so later had 80+ guests from 5 countries, got 3 bands in to play a bar I'd hired for the evening, free food and champagne.

God I hate a tightwad - he might have more than me in the bank, doubtless he has, but I have memories and enjoy life to the full.

Why do people live like that ? God only knows.
( I_Was_Mordred, Thu 23 Oct 2008, 21:31, 3 replies)

The car's winking at me!
Again, Nurse Ratched's dad.

He had an old Buick station wagon, a late 70s model (think Brady Bunch, but in red instead of avocado) with the little doors that raised when the headlights went on and shut when you turned them off. This was done by means of a small pneumatic cylinder driven by vacuum produced by the engine.

One day the left door didn't raise anymore because of a leak somewhere in the system. Instead of finding the leak, he propped it open with a piece of a tree branch from the yard.

He also lost the cap from the brake fluid reservoir. He replaced it with the cap from a baby food jar.

But the one that topped the list was when the car caught on fire. It seems that every time he used the radio a fuse blew, so he took the dead fuse and wrapped it in foil and put it back.

He had to get another car after that.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Thu 23 Oct 2008, 21:29, 2 replies)

Wendy's All You Can Stand Salad Bar.
Dad was rather proud of the fact that he could eat more than anyone else there.

Fact.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Thu 23 Oct 2008, 21:23, 2 replies)

The Beast
For the last umpteen years we have took it in turns to bring in doughnuts, cakes and muffins, danish pastries to the office. There is no rota, we all just get them when we think it's our turn. Sometimes we do a bacon sandwich run or ice lollies in the summer.

The Beast, however, has NEVER brought in ANYTHING, he does have a secret stash of ginger nuts he hides in his drawer though.

Despite this he stills manages to wind three or four doughnuts into his face out of the 15 that are brought in. His record is 12 jaffa cakes in one visit to the kitchen. His personal best TTD (Time To Doughnut from entering the office) is 23 secs.

Even shouting down the office that I've brought something in and there "should be enough for one each" isn't a subtle enough hint. No it's sugar and crumbs in the beard again all day.

Fat git.
(Yellow Car is now red, Thu 23 Oct 2008, 21:21, 1 reply)

Tightwad love
is dumping someone before their birthday/Valentine's Day/Christmas so you don't have to buy them a present, then getting back with them after said event.
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Thu 23 Oct 2008, 21:16, 4 replies)

Back in the 70s
my dad used to drink Miller High Life, which is the epitome of cheap yellow fizzy piss.

One weekend he and Mom were going out of town and he made a great show of noting how many bottles of Miller were in the fridge, as I was to be staying there alone for two days. Needless to say it annoyed me.

So when he got home his four bottles of Miller had eight little pony bottles of Miller in a circle around them. As I was underage he demanded an explanation.

"I dunno, Dad. Guess they had babies."

Since I hadn't taken anything, he couldn't get but so angry with me...
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Thu 23 Oct 2008, 21:07, Reply)

Spoiling the ship....
I am always amazed by people who will spend lavishly in one area but then refuse to spend a fraction of the amount on a sensible precaution.

Case in point; this is an Audio Note IoII Phono Cartridge- it costs £2650 (yes really).
www.audionote.co.uk/products/analogue/cart_ioii_01.shtml

Many years ago whilst still in retail, I sold an IoII on the strength of a demonstration of our shop unit. The bloke who bought it was well known as a hard driver for bargains (which I don't take issue with per se) but eventually settled on £2200 with his old cart coming in for trade- a good deal all round really. What happened next was ridiculous.

"Right" says I, "the cartridge will turn up next week. We would suggest you let us come round and fit it."

"What will it cost me?" said the miser

ME;"Well you've spent a lot of money with us so we'll waive the installation costs but it'll cost the congestion charge plus any parking costs to bring it over in the van." (total cost about £7).

HIM "I've spent over 2 grand with you lot, I've put a cartridge on before, I'll fit this one as well."

ME "I stress this is a bit tougher than normal- it is really easy to damage these."

HIM "I'll be fine- I've spent quite enough with you lot. Give me a call when it comes in and I'll collect it."

ME "Well you're the boss but let me know if you change your mind."

Needless to say he didn't and came in a few days later to negotiate on the cost of the £800 retipping after he squashed the stylus after a botched install.

A fine £7 saved there matey.
(Leonard Hatred briefly did some work on, Thu 23 Oct 2008, 21:05, 7 replies)

I went into the town bookshop, Hammicks, when I were a nipper
And they had a section at the back of the shop, with kids books, some big cushions to sit on; mainly to entertain kids whilst their parents were browsing for books.

So one saturday, I went there early on, got myself a couple of cushions at the back setup into a nice comfy big chair shape, and proceeded to read the entire series of Tintin books back to back.

Course, it's not that skinflint seeing as they were a fiver each, and I was 10 or whatever at the time so couldn't afford them if I'd wanted to buy them, but it was bloody great, cheap fun.
( LemonEntryMyDearWatson This time, Moriarty, the hand is on the other foot, Thu 23 Oct 2008, 20:56, 1 reply)

I do my food shopping after 6pm in the supermarket
and leave with a trolley full of yellow stickers. I don't see the point in paying full price when you can get it marked down so much cheaper at the end of the day.

However, Mr Stella won't eat reduced food so I remove the yellow stickers before he comes home from work.

He's none the wiser and I have money left at the weekend for treats!!
(leglesss let that be a lesson to you, Thu 23 Oct 2008, 20:56, 5 replies)

The onion incident
My husband works with a mega tightwad. Every birthday or xmas she tells them all to open the present carefully so the paper can be reused. They rip it out of spite and to see the distress on her face as they do so. Every year she goes to Wimbeldon as she is a tennis fan. However she doesn't buy a ticket. Her elderly mother gets 2 tickets free each year as she is a member of a tennis club. 3 of them go down and take shifts in the seats watching the tennis. However the best example is what is known as The Onion Incident. Two visting network technicians came in and had been to a roll shop and had a bought large salad rolls for lunch. As they were eating the rolls in the workshop a couple of pieces of onion dropped from the roll, her eyes light up as she asks "Are you going to eat that". Looking at the detritis from their lunch they both said "No" quick as a flash she darted in a took the pieces to add to her lunch.
(ladraven, Thu 23 Oct 2008, 20:49, Reply)

After 20 years of marriage
My wife still believes that I like to sit in the dark at night 'because it's more romantic that way dear'.
Bugger paying for a light to be on, what am i going to do, photosynthesize?
(turtles head is touching cloth poked a dwarf on the forehead at, Thu 23 Oct 2008, 20:45, 3 replies)

My brother has many nicknames among our family...
One of them is "quack quack".
(mmmm curry doesn't really understand this sig lark, Thu 23 Oct 2008, 20:37, Reply)

Nuff said...
These "I'm from Barnsley/Stoke/Liverpool/American enough said" jokes really aren't funny!
(suicidalducky has too much time on his hands, Thu 23 Oct 2008, 20:31, 7 replies)

my 'stepdad'
Would not let me be on the phone for more than three minutes. He would stand next to me and time it then pull chord out when my time was up. (funly enough he used to do this when someone was calling me, after he had carefully screened who it was on the other end of course).

I was not aloud to shower for more than 15 minutes. (To this day i am still a master of showering like lightening).

I was forbidden to watch Tv. Even tho we had the full Sky shebang, only he could use it.

Could only use the computer for max of an hour a day.

....
hang on a minute, that wasnt being thrifty, that was a bizare form of child abuse.... Fucksocks.
(Serbitar Has a furry shit canon called Whitey., Thu 23 Oct 2008, 20:29, 13 replies)

Worst present in the world
My 'friend' (see spoilt brat post for more details) aint short of a bob or two.

A week before my birthday (this year I might add) she was tidying out her bedroom which was full of unnecessary shit and I was fiddling with a plastic bracelet.

'I got that out of a cracker' says she.

Low and behold my birthday rolled around and she presents me with a small, long, black box.

Guess whats inside? Free Christmas cracker bracelet for me WOO.

And a bottle of Bicardi Breezer (what!?) Not even a big one.

I have no idea why I associate myself with this person
(i should have joined myspace, Thu 23 Oct 2008, 20:27, 3 replies)

I read many a Select magazine
over a few half-hour sessions on different days in the local WH-Smith. Saved my money to buy albums it recommended. Good days!
(lost, Thu 23 Oct 2008, 20:25, Reply)

My
dad met my mum at University. Somehow, despite his extreme lack of social grace (he has in the past described her as 'the old ball and chain' when introducing her to work colleagues) they somehow got together and started dating. This was in the early 1970s.

Eventually, after a few years, he decided to propose. At the time my mother was working as a teacher, the Old Man as an accountant. He asked to borrow £100 (this being about 1975/76) for unspecified reasons. My mother, still being naive regarding his miserliness, lent him £100.

The Old Man, money now clasped firmly in his sweaty palm, lurches out to the nearest Jewelers, where he spends £30 on a plain gold engagement ring. The other £70 was, I have been reliably informed by my godfather, blown on marijuana, LSD and alcohol.

A few days later, the Old Man goes down on one knee and presents my mother with the plain gold engagement ring and asks her to marry him. She accepts.

He then refuses to buy a wedding ring, either for her, or for himself. She gets married using the engagement ring that she had unwittingly paid for.

He never paid her back for her engagement/wedding ring and, in fact, now denies the whole story.

He also used to alledgedly run out of restaurants without paying (along with my godfather) - the salient difference being that the Old Man would usually attempt to take his plate with him.
(Zapiola zip-zap-zop, Thu 23 Oct 2008, 20:25, Reply)