They sleep on your couch, don’t pay rent, bum your cigarettes, raid your refrigerator and are infamous for “holding” money for you. Sound familiar? Congratulations! You have a moocher on your hands.
Also known as a freeloader, a bum, a couch surfer, a sponger or a variety of other terms of endearment, these people live on the generosity of others without contributing anything to the good of society.
Sometimes we don’t notice when these leeches first attach themselves. At first it may only be $5 for gas here, a bag of chips there. It’s stuff that you can almost justify, and it’s nothing that big. And hey, they get paid on Friday.
Now in this situation, you might say to yourself, “Now wait a minute, self, I’m not enabling this bloodsucker, I’m just being a good friend.” This is how they get you.
So often these moochers are actually people we consider to be our good friends. But are they really our good friends, or do they just tell us this constantly in order to take us for all we are worth?
A real friend wouldn’t treat you like a 24-hour ATM. A real friend loses his job and lays on your couch, eating your favorite Ben and Jerry’s for two weeks, maybe three. But then, they get up, get dressed and get a job. A moocher never has a job to begin with, somehow weasels his way onto your couch, drinks all of your Newcastle and never leaves.
There are all types of moochers. First, you have the dirty hippie moocher. This might be your pest if you aren’t sure how they ended up on your couch, but they’re there now. And they smell. Every few days, you walk by and poke them to make sure they’re still alive.
Another common bottom dweller is the moocher of all things vice. These friends come over to your apartment while you’re gone, rummage through your refrigerator until their eyes land on that brand-spanking new six-pack of rather expensive import beer, then proceed to walk out of the front door with it. Never fear though, that case of Keystone will still be there when you get home.
These oh-so-special friends are the same ones that are forever in the process of quitting smoking. Let me let you in on a little secret. When someone tells you, “I’m quitting,” what he actually means is “I am no longer buying cigarettes. I will, however, continue to smoke all of yours.”
Last but not least, my favorite bloodsucker of all: the one with a trust fund. These are a truly unexplainable species. They usually don’t work, or at the very least not very hard. And they get bi-monthly checks from daddy to boot.
These people fall prey to the little green wallet fairy, who carries off all their money while they are drunk at the bar and leaves nothing but a receipt for an expensive bar tab inside that could not possibly be theirs.
Now they need you to get them for the next few days. But don’t worry too much; they will pay you back … right after they get back from the casino.
After dealing with one too many moochers in my life, I have come up with a solution. It’s time to be a real friend to these wayward souls. It’s time for tough love, baby. Today I am telling all the freeloaders in my life to take a hike. Oh, no gas? Opposable thumbs are so awesome, aren’t they?