It’s official. I’m considering seriously the idea of coming out of retirement to become a server, the asexual term now used for waiters and waitresses.
This is a no-brainer. First of all, Donald Trump has proposed no income tax on tip income and, after the Democrats initially lampooned the suggestion as purely political, Me Too Kamala Chameleon Harris has proposed the very same thing as an add on to her Communist Manifesto economic plan.
But it goes beyond tax implications, the thought of me returning to the work force. I didn’t realize how much servers get and/or expect in tip income.
My epiphany on the matter came Saturday, as I treated two grandchildren to lunch at Eat’n Park following time spent at a playground. Since we had been at the Luray Park Playground (because the girls like it) we went to the Richland Eat’n Park outlet.
The restaurant chain is having a special on kids’ meals. The girls both wanted pancakes, so each got the Child Giggle Breakfast for $3.99. A few ounces of chocolate milk for each cost $1.99 apiece more, but still, a value overall.
And don’t forget this includes a Smiley Cookie! The server apparently did, never mentioning it. But, having been indoctrinated into this Eat’n Park cookie ritual by grandchildren, not to mention my son in his early years, I promised to stop at the counter on the way out to inquire about cookies, which were listed as “free” on my bill.
Even before that, however, I got my own giggle—chuckle. The server laid the bill on me. It was $12.68 with tax. I hadn’t eaten.
I put a $20 on the bill for payment. The server picked it up and asked “Do you need change?”
So, this sweet, young thing was fishing for a $7.32 tip on a $12.68 charge. I’ll save you the math – that’s about 58 percent. The young lady (at least I’m jumping to the conclusion from appearance that she was a young lady) sure had cojones.
Even the restaurants that kindly figure tip percentages and print them on your bill, don’t think to ask for 58 percent. I recall the most I’ve seen is 23 percent. And, a quick internet search indicates the usual expectation for a tip is 15 to 20 percent.
Perhaps this was an attempt to get a little extra from someone not up to asking for change when put on the spot. Because I don’t suffer from such fear of public embarrassment, I said that, yes, I wanted change.
I left a tip of $2.32 on the table, slightly more than 18 percent but far less than her wish. It could have been more, if she’d mentioned the cookies the kids deserved, and which they eventually got. But that required me standing at the checkout counter, even though I’d already paid, waiting for others to pay.
When I mentioned the missing cookies, the young girl working there pointed me to a bowl of prewrapped cookies sitting on the counter and the girls each took one. In the past they always had been brought to the table by the person getting the tip.
Perhaps you have noticed tip jars and the like sprouting everywhere. I worked for newspapers for more than 35 years, writing and in effect providing a daily service to readers. Yet, never in my wildest imagination did I expect them to tip me.
But order food online, stop at some sort of fast-food operation yourself, avail yourself of practically any service, and you face the extended upward palm, either literally or figuratively. I’m waiting for the cashiers at Walmarts or grocery stores soon to expect to be tipped. And shelf stockers. And greeters. And bag boys/girls.
A story posted last month on fastcompany.com told the touching tale of a guy getting a preflight snack from a self-serve kiosk at Newark Airport and being asked by the machine for a tip.
Artificial Intelligence?
It’s not that I’m against tipping. I even give considerable tips to the people who work at buffets such as our local Chinese operations, even though the strictest interpretations of tipping call for about half the usual rate for buffets and self-service.
Tipping culture in general has gotten out of control in this country, as satirized in a current TV ad that includes a guy getting a massage, then being given an electronic device to approve a tip.
In the spirit of if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em, I want in on the action. I’ll give you a break. My standard tip rate will be a mere 50 percent. Just because you’re you.
Sam Ross Jr's site 