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$500.
    Tiffany and Morgan have decided to go chasing after the frat boys, who are, apparently, throwing an epic party down at the beach. I've been to more than enough epic parties on campus, and when I get in a bad mood like this (which is at least once a day, on average), I really like to be alone. Also, did I mention I'm sharing a room with Morgan and Tiffany? Yeah, it's the only way we could afford the trip on our Richard-appointed budget.
    Speaking of Richard, he's going back to his room to watch our GluedToYou channel, where Tiffany and Morgan have promised to post frequent live video of the "epic party" to prove they aren't cheating. Which is silly, because someone else will already have provided the booze at this epic party, but if that's how Richard wants to spend his first night on vacation, he can knock himself out. Hopefully he'll also catch my public service announcement vid about LDD (Low Dollar Disorder), in which I explain the symptoms (irritability, bitching, moaning, craving expensive items) and treatment options (large amounts of cash).
    I'm almost at the door to my crummy motel room (which means I'm still outside, that's how much of a dump this place is), when I hear someone yelling my name. Thinking it's Richard, trying to pick another fight, I whirl around, ready to tell him he better not interfere with my chocolate ingestion mission.
    But it's not Richard - it's Hoolio, the waiter.
    "Did your boss change his mind about comping our meals and send you to collect?" I ask, suddenly worried.
"No, no, I was just...." He trails off, staring at his feet as if there was a mirror on each one. Okay,    like I would stare at my feet if there was a mirror on each one. "I was just wondering if you'd like to take a walk on the beach with me? It's nice this time of night, and you obviously didn't want to go to that party with your friends and table eight."
"Table eight? Oh, the drunk frat boys? I see enough of that back at home, why pay fifty bucks a night to watch drunken idiots?" What the hell, I am supposed to be slumming it. "Sure, let's go for a walk."
    "So, if you don't mind my asking, why are you friends with that group?" Julio asks. "You seem so different from them."
For some reason, with the camera off and everyone else gone, I feel like making this my honest moment of the day. “I like hanging around dumb people because it makes me look smarter in comparison, all right? I also have friends who are, let’s say, not aesthetically fortunate. Want to guess why I hang around them?”
    Hoolio stops walking and turns to look at me. He’s actually not bad-looking, if you don’t look directly at the nose ring. “Are you serious? That’s really why you hang out with these people?”
    I’m starting to get a judgmental vibe from him, kind of like Richard Lite. “You’ve never hung out with someone because it made you feel better about yourself? Not once?”
    He shakes his head, the braids flapping behind him like birds that had too much to drink. “No, that’s not what I mean! Of course I have. I’m just surprised because you’re obviously very clever – you don’t need them for comparison.”
    That does a lot to make the judgmental vibe go away, and I’m actually starting to like Hoolio, so I decide to have a rare second moment of honesty today. “Well, there is another reason. Dumb, drunk people are very easy to manipulate.”
    “ What is it you’re manipulating them out of? They obviously don’t have any more money than you do. I seriously doubt any of them are doing your homework. And I can’t imagine you’d have a romantic interest in any of them – except maybe that one guy. At least, he has the hots for you.”
    “ What guy? You mean Charlie?” I’m thoroughly confused. “We went out once, but that was months ago. There was no chemistry. And the last couple months, he’s been all about Tiffany.”
    “ Charlie?” Hoolio scratches his head. “Oh, the one your friend wanted