It's free, but...

There is always a catch.

I need a place to live. I see a craigslist post offering free room in a sweet apartment for a girl. The catch? I would have to rub moisturizer on the owner of the place after he lays out in the sun all day. I would be lying if I said I didn't respond to the ad. When staring poverty in the face, one considers extreme measures in order to ensure survival. I eventually decided against the idea (of course), but that idea of free rent is still so tempting.

I need to exercise. I go to the lovely free yoga studio near me for some relaxation and movement. It is packed, and I am stuffed in a corner next to a woman whose physical build reminds me of a ball of dough, with a leotard acting as the saran wrap keeping it all together. She laughs a lot, as I, Bi-polar Betty, sob hysterically. Then she coughs in my mouth. She is obviously a smoker, because my mouth suddenly tastes of nicotine. I gag in between sobs (it's been a long week). Free yoga? Awesome. Fat chick coughing smoker filth IN MY MOUTH? Hardly awesome.

I need to eat. I go meet a friend for $3 margs, and eat the chips and salsa they bring to the table as dinner. Cheapest dinner ever (free!). I wake up this morning to stomach cramps, and have been in and out of the bathroom all morning. I think the salsa was made by Ex-Lax.

Choose your free carefully.