The Semester I Spent $100 on Groceries

Not $100 a month, just to make that clear. $100 TOTAL, running September to December. No foods banks, robbery, or creative urban gardening contributed to making this happen. All I had to do was take advantage of the free food in college, every single week.

I’ll set the scene. This was specifically the fall 2015 semester, my final year of undergrad. I had just moved to a really crap apartment, but had my own room for the first time. Sure, it barely fit my twin bed, but it was all mine! Plus, the fire escape outside provided a gorgeous view of the Boston skyline from my abode in Eastie. With my housing situation squared away it was time to make sure I’d feed myself. I should be fine with buying groceries every week or two, right?

No. Not right.

We’ve established I was a financial moron at this point in time, very insecure about the lack of funds I had and determination not to have my parents involved. I was convinced I didn’t have enough money to go get groceries every couple of weeks like everyone else does. But since eating food is a literal human requirement for survival, my hands were tied.

Or were they?

See, I was part of a couple of clubs that happened to collaborate with several other clubs and campus offices. I’ve noticed throughout my time there that everyone knows there’s one surefire way to draw students to their events. Not star lecturers who were experts in their field. Not interesting content. Not even swag bags and other branded trinkets. No, there was only one thing they could offer that would guarantee students would at least consider attending.

That thing? Easy: food.

That rule-of-thumb provided me with months of sustenance as I completed my final years at university. Looking back, I’m shocked at how little other students took advantage of this delicious loophole. I couldn’t have been the only one financially insecure; how many of my peers could have benefitted from doing this?

How I Found Free Food

I earned the nickname “Free Food Queen” for good reason. I was the undisputed ruler of the land of milk and honey – or, in this case, land of endless pizza and soda. Which is funny, because it took no time at all to hold onto that title and find where the free food was at.

My go-to resource was nothing grander than the university calendar, which listed all the different events going on around campus. I’m going to use the calendar from Brandeis University (not my alma mater, but also in the Greater Boston area) to show my process.

First, visit the calendar online.

Next, take fifteen seconds to read through what events are where.

If the event is offering food, they will let you know. They’ll mention somewhere that there will be refreshments, snacks, buffets, pizza, or another culinary buzzword.

Then you go, and eat, and leave happy with a full stomach. Half the time, you’ll also leave with leftovers, because most people know it’s better to have too much food than too little. Most event organizers knew they didn’t want to deal with hangry college kids with nothing to lose.

I’m also going to mention here that I’m not there to dine and dash. We’re not cheap people; we value others. If a group took the time and effort to organize all of this, I’m going to honor that by participating in it. It’s also a lot more fun that way.

Besides the university calendar there were two other strategies to finding free food, which I only utilized about 20% of the time. One was signing myself up for Boston event newsletters, which also knew the rule of food=crowds. The Boston Calendar was good for this once I sorted by “FREE”. Although free food wasn’t nearly as frequent, it helped fill in the gaps.

The other strategy was finding out where the university boards and administrators held their meetings, and whether they ever met on a regular schedule. I don’t remember a single time that they didn’t have leftover food after the meeting, which also tended to be slightly better quality. Mmm, those caprese sandwiches and lemon bars still make me drool.

The Events I Looked Out For

Within a month I had a schedule that worked around free food offerings. I became one of the most involved students on campus because I was everywhere. Whatever was going on, you were sure to see me; I was like an impoverished socialite, who knew where to be and what to take advantage of.

There were bagel breakfasts. Open houses with different programs and a variety of catered goods. Breakfast forums. Pizza nights. Information sessions. Cultural activities. Movie night buffets. Workshops. Half-day or all-day conferences. Student/faculty luncheons. Opening receptions. Award receptions. Catered club events. Post-show parties. Admin meetings that left behind a ton of food.

Oh, yes. I was the free food queen.

There were some great memories from this time. Once, I dragged two friends along to a movie night that would have a shitload of wings. We ended up being the only three there and happily scarfed them down watching 300: Rise of an Empire.

Another time a poetry night ended with a TON of hot food left over, way more than even I could take home. This event happened to take place in the same building that housed the alumni office, where my fellow peers called alumni requesting donations. I ended up bursting in the door with the news of free dinner if they’d just follow me; with the supervisor’s bemused blessing, I led half of them off to a pilgrimage of good eating. They even took it a step farther than I did by interrupting random students’ studying to share the good news. “Hey – come with us if you want free food.” I was the gift that kept on giving, the free food angel bestowing sustenance upon the weary denizens of Academia.

The Downsides

As great as these little memories were, I was not enjoying myself most of the time. My endless searches for free food were done out of desperation and money fear, NOT calculated comfort. When I ate, I didn’t feel happy with having saved on my grocery bill. I felt a temporary relief that, for the next few hours, I wouldn’t have to think about food. Then my stomach would rumble once more and I’d be off again to find food I didn’t think I could afford.

Another downside was the quality of the food. Most often my choices were limited to junk food with little, if any, nutritional value. Sure, it kept me breathing and from lying dead in one of Boston’s cobblestone streets. But the bad eating, combined with the irregular mealtimes, made my academic and employment performances go downhill. Out of all of my years in school my senior year was the worst one, despite my taking relatively breezy classes. Knowing this free food wasn’t good for me only furthered the stress I was under.

There was also, always, a paranoia to this practice. How many people have correctly guessed I have no money for actual groceries? Do they look down on me, or pity me? Does this give me a worse reputation? Is this the reason why no one wants to spend time with me?

That last question stemmed from me noticing I never got invited out to hang with people; hindsight reveals this was because I was so cringey about money that no one wanted to deal with my constant shortchanging. This free food crusade was a symptom of a much larger problem that’s affected me for years. My financial paranoia was kept alive and well by the statistics on student loan debt, job prospects, and stagnant wages. I felt like getting this free food was the only choice that could afford me at least a little dignity. At least I wasn’t going into the Panera Cares and asking for a free meal, nor was I taking resources from food banks. I didn’t want to think that I was truly impoverished, and these events offered me a way to save face, if only to myself.

The End of the Semester

Once my last final was done with I looked over my card statements, surprised – and proud – to see my grocery spending barely squeaked into the three figures. That actually did help me get better with my money, eventually. It showed me I did have control over my finances, and that I knew how to get creative and keep myself fed even when the going got tough.

While the savings were great, I would NOT recommend doing this unless you truly are this desperate. This was a cheap strategy, and you know you should be thrifty instead of cheap. I should have spent some time learning how to keep costs down on my grocery bill. Knowing that today keeps my monthly grocery spend at $125 for fruits, veggies, and other healthy foodstuff. No more constant pizza and bagels for me, thanks.

Sometimes I do still go to events where free food is offered, and I have to resist indulging in the habits I formed in my time of desperation. Deprogramming yourself is another hard road to take, but one that’s worth so much more in the long run. If you feel you have to seek out free food like I did, at least make the most of it. I wish you all the best.