Why My Friends Need to Stay Alive (Literally)

Hey everyone, Tina here.

I was scrolling through my phone the other day and came across a quote that hit me right in the soul—and my bank account. It said: “Please don’t die if you owe me money, I would hate to go through your pockets at the funeral.”

Now, before you call me heartless, let’s be real for a second. We all have that one friend. You know the one. They’re the light of the party, the person who gives the best hugs, the one who is always “just five minutes away” (which actually means they haven’t left their house yet). But they are also the friend who, whenever the check comes at dinner, suddenly discovers their banking app is “glitching” or they “left their wallet in their other jeans.”

I love my friends. I really do. I’d take a bullet for them. But I’m starting to realize I’d also like my $45 back for that bottomless brunch in 2022.

Think about the logistics of that quote for a second. Can you imagine the scene? There I am, Tina, dressed in my most respectful black dress, dabbing my eyes with a silk handkerchief. I lean over the casket for one final, tearful goodbye. The family is watching, moved by my clear devotion.

But instead of a whisper of “Rest in peace,” I’m actually feeling for the outline of a leather billfold. Is that a twenty? No, that’s just a lining. Wait, is that a Chase sapphire card? I’d be the first person in history to get kicked out of a funeral not for making a scene, but for trying to Venmo request a corpse. “Listen, Steve, I know you’re busy being eternal right now, but we talked about the Coachella tickets, man!”

Being the “Tina” of the group usually means I’m the one with the working credit card and the slightly-too-forgiving nature. I’ve become a reluctant micro-lender. My Venmo history looks like a charity foundation that specifically funds iced lattes and “emergency” Uber Rides for people who live three blocks away.

The problem is, when you lend money to friends, you enter a weird social limbo. You don’t want to be that person who brings it up every time you see them.

• Them: “I’m having such a hard week.”

• Me (Internal Monologue): “I know what would make you feel better… settling your debts.”

But instead, I just nod and say, “That sounds so tough, babe,” while mentally calculating how many tacos I could have bought with the money they owe me.

So, this is my official PSA to all my friends: Please, for the love of everything holy, stay hydrated. Eat your vegetables. Look both ways before crossing the street. Wear a helmet. Not just because I love your personality and your chaotic energy, but because I’ve worked too hard for my savings to have them buried six feet under in your back pocket.

I don’t want to have to do “funeral math.” I don’t want to be standing at a memorial service wondering if your estate covers the $12.50 you owe me for that shared appetizer that you ate 80% of anyway.

If you’re reading this and you feel a slight itch of guilt—don’t panic. I’m not coming for your pockets yet. But maybe, just maybe, check your Venmo requests today? Let’s keep our friendship (and your life) in good standing.

Because let’s be honest: I look terrible in a mugshot, and “robbing a casket for gas money” is a really hard thing to explain to a judge.

Stay safe, stay alive, and stay paid up.

Love always,

Tina