1. The exact-bill- divider-upper
You and your work chums head out for dim sum, and eventually the bill arrives. Andy from Finance pipes up: ‘I only had one glass of pinot, and I didn’t touch the noodles.’ Dividing up the steamed dumplings, tofu skin rolls and lotus leaf rice parcels among you and seven of your colleagues is like thrusting a fully-grown Arizonian cactus up ya derrière. All because Andy foresees a personal economic meltdown if he spends a few extra pence on Donna from HR’s sticky rice.
2. The pots-of-cash-TK Maxx-weekender
Kathy lives in a four-bed, three-bath, fifteenth-floor Thames-side apartment, has no comprehension of what the Jubilee line is and executes her weekly shop at Borough Market, but she’ll take up your whole Saturday dragging you round the aisles of TK’s in the hunt for a cost-effective kaftan. She’ll barter her way out of service charges, bully waiting staff for complimentary booze and wangle her way out of cancellation fees. You can take the girl out of the north-west, but not out of a 60 percent-less-than-the-RRP discount department store.
3. The daily saver, holiday splurger
With Sam, it’s all voucher deals, Groupon bargains and TopTable offers; she’ll never start with an apéritif at a hyper-cool hotel or contemporary cocktail bar: ‘You can buy a whole bottle of plonk for the price of one cosmo in that gaff.’ She’ll happily bang on about P&O’s ocean-fresh lobster, the tasty pineapple cake in Taiwan and the truffle aromas from her wine tour of France while you’re both tucking into a BOGOF and a jug of tap water.
4. The last- to-the-bar-every-timer
You could have brewed your own beer before stingy Steve makes an attempt to worm his wallet open at The Goat & Tricycle. He’ll gleefully accept round after round, but you’ll have more chance of prising the presidential seat from Putin than squeezing a Cinzano and lemonade out of can’t-find-the-bar Steve.
5. The travel cheapskate
Even when a torrential storm erupts, and three empty black cabs are enthusiastically winking at you, Mark will insist on waiting for an under-budget see-you-in- seven (more like 27) minutes Uber. He’d rather visit all 24 stops on a bus to Tottenham Court Road than cough up a couple of extra quid for a speedy jaunt on the Northern line. If Mark could pay less to be squished into the overhead luggage compartment of a Boeing 747, he would. What a shame, then, that Ryanair doesn’t fly long-haul.
By Thabian Sutherland, who actually loves going to TK Maxx, but wants some prosecco after.