It’s about 3 in the morning. And I receive a text message from an unknown number.

“Who could it be?” I wonder to myself, while my mind quickly concludes that it must be a serial killer. Not just any serial killer, though — a serial killer that specializes in killing bland college kids.

I tentatively check my phone and read the text message, expecting a death threat. And I see who the real sender is. It’s just my bank. So no, it’s not a serial killer, but almost as scary as one.

The message reads, “Current Balance Low: $41.23.”

Now, there are a couple of unsettling things about this situation. My first qualm is the time at which I was contacted. Who in the boardroom of M&T Bank decided a 3 a.m. text message was a completely reasonable way to reach someone to say, “Hey, you’re poor!”

“Yes, brilliant!” I assume all of the monocle-wearing executives exclaimed. “Now that Christian Unkenholz will definitely miss his first class and be poor forever.” This statement is then followed by a fit of maniacal laughter.

My second qualm is that I legitimately don’t understand what happened to all of my money. Yeah, there was that one week that included about four Chipotle visits — which translates handily to the amount of years knocked off my life by said Chipotle visits.

But it’s more than just food. Everything in college seems to cost an absurd amount of money that would make even Mitt Romney shake his moneybags in disdain.

Even going out on the weekend is crazy expensive. I mean, come on, frats. Five dollars is a lot of money. That’s like three-fourths of a Chipotle burrito. How do you expect me to destroy my body with a diminished budget?

And how are you supposed to effectively “YOLO” when “yo funds are low?”

I vowed I was not going to spend any more money. I was going to beat the system.

Now, don’t get too impressed with me. A life without spending is not a pretty one. It is actually a life of thievery.

But it’s not that cool “Ocean’s Eleven” style skullduggery. No, you may be surprised to learn there are many differences between me and George Clooney. One, I don’t own a suit, and another, George Clooney didn’t spend his Saturday listening to the Muppets’ Christmas album.

My perfect heist pretty much includes me hiding an absurd amount of yogurts in my shirt like Jamie Lee Curtis’ digestive relaxant mule as I leave the dining hall. I know, pretty devious, right?

And at frats, I now stay firmly planted at the bar yelling to my friends dancing close by that I need to get my money’s worth of that sweet, sweet watered-down beer.

And doing my laundry? Way too expensive. OK, maybe that was just an excuse for my absolute laziness. But there’s something about five simultaneous yogurts in your belly that starts to put some simple truths to light.

Saving money sucks. I know, stop the presses. But there is very little enjoyment derived from a mountain of stolen yogurt cups and maybe one extra beer at a party. Spending money is inherently fun. I mean, there’s a reason Jay Gatsby is rich and not a wise ole hobo. Though “Hobo Gatsby” would make a great themed party.

But spending too much money can lead to more stress than you need when you’re in college. As with everything, it’s all about balance. Don’t go crazy, but don’t get so wrapped up in saving that you miss out on the exciting things college has to offer. And besides, I think we can all agree that yogurt really, really sucks.

Christian Unkenholz is a sophomore public relations and political science major. You can find him stuffing bananas and other fruits down his pants in a dining hall near you. His column appears every Thursday in Pulp. He can be reached at cdunkenh@syr.edu.

Published on November 6, 2013 at 9:45 pm