DISPATCH | A broke college student takes on the Big Apple

NEW YORK — When I said that I could adapt to new environments and think creatively in my internship interview, I didn’t think it would matter more outside the courtroom than within. I got the internship. I didn’t get internship funding. So what? This summer in the Big Apple suddenly became the true broke college student experience for me. This dream city became simultaneously the most expensive and cheapest place to spend my 2026 summer. To make it affordable, I had to apply the creative skills that I bragged about on my resume in order to help my bank account survive.

The problem at hand was balancing my social life and finances. Yet if I had to pick a summer to be broke and still have fun, this summer would’ve been my first draft pick. From the Knicks and World Cup watch parties to the endless free social events, this city and I didn’t sleep a wink. 

After luckily securing an apartment for the very generous discount of free at the start of June, the next big expenses were transportation and groceries. These burdens left me with a lighter-than-planned wallet. And while I’m no stranger to the city, having spent multiple summers here as a kid visiting family, this was my first time navigating it all as a young adult on a tight budget.

Far from my hometown in the rolling mountains of West Virginia, the urban landscape always holds an adventure within its skyline buildings. The first challenge I had to battle with was my impulse. The usual urges of sweet treat runs and thrift shop crawls became a thin tightrope: with one wrong step, I could fall into the financial red. 

I waddled carefully along, wanting to engage socially while making sure I could afford dinner next week. It didn’t help that everyone else I knew was also in the city. Each invite to go explore the city became a risky gamble, and the pile of declined invites was putting a damper on my summer expectations.

But the challenge forced me to get creative. Turning to something familiar, I found myself fulfilling my social needs at free, open dance spots. Thanks to the algorithmic magic of Instagram, my feed quickly filled with flyers promoting free open spots for anything and everything in between. Each scroll would only lead me to a new side quest in the city, advertising a fun, and, more importantly, free activity. That’s how I found myself going to Washington Square Park on Wednesday evenings for their free salsa nights after work. Dancing salsa with the community slowly became part of my routine, and I eventually dragged my shy friends along for the experience. Salsa dancing didn’t come with an infamously long line or an overpriced cover fee for a watered-down drink. Instead, it was a fun, social, and easy switch for me and my wallet. 

I spent my Sunday nights at the Brooklyn Piers for the coed, pickup soccer matches, which I funnily enough discovered one day at their promotion event held in Washington Square Park. The late-night matches would occasionally be the reason I was late to the courts on Monday mornings and why I would be sore for the rest of the week.

While I can find comfort in the familiar thrill of soccer and salsa, both hobbies I’ve had since I was a kid, I still felt like I had a gap in my time. A gap that eventually gave me the idea of turning to one of my newer hobbies that I picked up during my time in Princeton: pool. While I’ve strictly played on the pool tables buried within the Quadrangle Club in low-stakes banter with close friends, I quickly adapted my confidence to extend beyond the clubhouse walls. 

I’d find myself spending long hours in dive bars and pool halls in the Lower East Side, eventually earning regular status at my favorite bar. Sure, it would cost me a precious two dollars per round on average, but I only had to pay if I lost. And if I ever needed motivation to get better at anything, it would be financial.

Another reason I found myself routinely visiting the same rotation of spots was the magnetic pull I felt from the regulars with whom I established myself. Sessions of games would go for hours at a time. I learned new skills and tricks as new and regular players were introduced to my life. And while we met at the tables, plans outside the bars became a regular occurrence as I’d get introduced to the wide social scenes scattered around the city. Each game was an opportunity to just connect with other players, ranging from other visiting interns to locals who have frequented the place for years. 

While the predictability of routine is comforting in a new environment, it’s safe to say that the city forces a spontaneous schedule on all its residents. On the nights of Knicks games and World Cup matches, I found myself being dragged into the competitive spirit of a united community. Something as simple as wearing a borrowed Knicks jersey made me feel like I was part of New York’s special club. After getting high fives from excited strangers on game nights, I realized that it didn’t matter that I had no idea who was on the team; it just mattered that I showed up. Then, on the nights of proudly wearing my celeste blue Uruguayan jersey, it became a taste of home as I got the rare chance to immerse myself in something that was so familiar yet distant. Uruguay World Cup watch parties felt more like family reunions as the sea of celeste filled small pubs with our unique accent. And once again, it’s free to participate in the community, if you know where you’re looking.

In a city that seems so endless, it’s easy to get lost while trying to keep up with it all. The timing of this challenging summer feels ironic in this time of my life as a rising senior. Dealing with the sudden hyperindependence, both financially and socially, I’ve had plenty of time to consider the next big steps in my life and how I choose to spend my free time. The experience I’ve had this summer has given me a soft sense of comfort as I prepare to tackle the final stretch of my time here at Princeton and ultimately my life after I graduate. Even during tough times of hardship, I can always find a way to persevere, whether through familiar habits or exploring a new skill. And while it hasn’t been easy for this broke college student, I’d do it all over again.

Amanda Hugas is a member of the Class of 2027 and a senior writer for The Prospect. She can be reached by her email at ah0942[at]princeton.edu.

Please send any corrections to corrections[at]dailyprincetonian.com.