I always thought there were two kinds of cheap people.
The first kind are people who genuinely struggle with money and try their best to stretch every dollar. I understand that completely.
The second kind are people who have plenty of money but somehow always find a way to make everyone else pay for them.
My in-laws belonged firmly in the second category.
The strange thing was that they weren’t poor. Not even close.
They lived in a large house in one of the nicest neighborhoods in town.
They drove luxury vehicles. They took vacations every year. My mother-in-law loved designer handbags, and my father-in-law collected expensive watches.
Yet whenever it came time to split a restaurant bill, they transformed into completely different people.
The first time it happened, I assumed it was an accident.
The second time, I thought maybe it was bad luck.
By the tenth time, I realized it was a strategy.
Someone would conveniently forget their wallet. Someone else would step away to take a phone call. Another family member would suddenly need to use the restroom.
The timing was always perfect.
And somehow, every single time, another person ended up covering the entire check.
Friends. Extended family. Neighbors. Coworkers.
Nobody seemed immune.
What made it worse was that they never acknowledged it afterward. No repayment. No offer to reimburse anyone. They simply acted as if nothing unusual had happened.
Most people stayed quiet because they didn’t want to create an awkward scene.
My husband hated it too, but confronting them never seemed to change anything.
Eventually, we learned to avoid restaurant invitations whenever possible.
Then my husband received a job opportunity overseas.
A few months later, we moved abroad.
For the first time in years, I felt like I had escaped the endless cycle of uncomfortable dinners and suspiciously missing wallets.
Or so I thought.
One afternoon, my mom called me.
“Oh, guess what?” she said cheerfully.
“What?”
“Your mother-in-law invited me to her birthday dinner next weekend.”
