Gratuity Not Included

Some comments about tipping.

                 Gratuity Not Included

 

By Elton Camp

 

            This is an article by an old grouch who dislikes tipping, but who frequently tips just the same.  To be frank, I find the basic concept flawed. Why should I pay extra to persons who owe their very jobs to my presence or purchases?  Wouldn’t it make more sense if they tipped me out of appreciation for my business?  At such time, if any, that I become the dictator of economics, I intend to abolish the practice entirely along with an adjustment in wages where it’s deserved.  That adjustment might, however, be either up or down.  Doing that would eliminate a lot of uncertainty, grumbling, and unfairness in a “voluntary” system where pay is extorted at the expense of the portion of the public willing to be bullied into compliance.  President Obama, take notice�"I’m available if you ask nicely.  Since my advancement to economic czar doesn’t appear likely to come anytime soon, we have to deal with reality and the need to tip appropriately is part of it.

 

            I’m approaching seventy years old and over that time have seen a revolution in tipping.  At least in the South (the only place I’ve lived), it spread like a multiplying fungus from an occasional practice at restaurants to being expected by all sorts of persons in service jobs, some of whom should be deeply embarrassed for being willing to accept a gratuity. 

 

I learned of the existence of tipping at a small café in my hometown of Albertville, Alabama.  A family operation on a back street was called “Red’s Place.”  It had a counter with stools and several tables.  The eatery was spotless, the food prepared fresh after each order, and the service prompt and courteous.  Both Big Red and Little Red appreciated their customers and worked hard to continue to deserve their patronage.  Behind the counter was a conspicuous sign with large letters, “Absolutely no tipping allowed.”  The normally friendly owner meant what he said and could become hostile if anyone dared ignore it.  He regarded tipping as a demeaning insult and would have nothing to do with it. As a young child, I was amazed that anyone would even consider paying more for anything than its stated price.

 

Red’s Place was, however, the exception.  Most cafes of that time allowed tipping, but it wasn’t expected and most certainly not virtually demanded.  When I was a youngster, the most frequent tip for one person purchasing a normal meal was ten cents.  The server was glad to get it since many left nothing.  Of course, the meal cost far less than a dollar so that seemingly miniscule tip was in keeping with the now expected fifteen to twenty percent. 

 

“I don’t see any more reason to tip a waitress than a clerk in a store,” one of my uncles remarked with irritation.  Many held similar sentiments, but most continued, with resentment, to tip. 

 

Over the years, as inflation eroded the value of money, the customary café tip gradually rose to a quarter.  The wait person receiving it felt well rewarded and made sure to give the generous customer special service on the next visit. 

 

In the early 1950s, when my grandparents were guests in the famous New Yorker hotel, he gave the waiter a tip in keeping with Alabama practice.  The haughty man returned the tip with the snippy comment, “I don’t accept a tip of less than a dollar.”  That a dollar was an incredibly large tip tells a lot about changes in the cost of living.  Not one to be intimidated, my grandfather replied, “If you don’t want it, I can certainly use it.”  He returned the coins to his own pocket and the waiter stalked away in a huff. 

 

Because I was a youngster and rarely ate out, I didn’t realize it was happening, but the expected tip became more uniform:  ten percent of the bill.  Once that level became accepted, the desired toll gradually increased to become fifteen percent or even twenty percent.  Today, a few wait staff even add “or more” to the phrase.  “Anything less than twenty percent is an insult,” a waitress complained recently in a letter to the editor in our local newspaper, the TimesDaily. 

 

A key factor has, however, largely disappeared from the equation.  The tip began as a reward for good service.  It has degenerated into a toll to be extracted regardless of the quality of the service provided.  A newspaper writer recently asserted that even with poor service, no less than ten percent should be given.  Oh, really?  On two occasions, I tipped rude, hostile waitresses a single penny.  The penny was to let her know of my outrage.  If I’d left nothing, the heifers might have thought I forgot.  I wanted them to see consequences to their conduct. 

 

“We aren’t paid minimum wage,” the waitperson whines.  “If it weren’t for tips, we couldn’t survive.”  I quote one of the most admirable characters in literature.  He asked before his thinking was corrupted, “Are there no workhouses?  Are there no prisons?  They must go there.” 

 

Why is pay below minimum wage tolerated?  Where is the union so desperately needed to organize servers and demand a more equitable wage from their employers?  Without wait staff, more costly sit-down restaurants wouldn’t be able to keep their customers.  Eating places could continue to operate as shown by Mickey D’s and a plethora of similar establishments without servers.  But those wanting a more pleasant dining experience than ordering at the counter, picking up the food, eating off a greasy table, and dumping the residue into a garbage can would be outraged.  As a group, servers have power and change is well within their grasp if they only had the courage to demand it.  A strictly enforced sign at the door, “No Tipping,” would cancel complaint about the necessary fifteen percent price increase so more equitable wages could be paid.  Customers would appear in droves at those establishments.  Servers would be far more secure with a predictable level of income and a growing record for their old age with the Social Security Administration.  Income tax revenues would rise, as would the essential money generated by sales tax.  All would win. 

 

Instead of seeking a direct and sensible solution, the wait staff lay a guilt trip on customers.  “If you can’t afford to tip, then you can’t afford to eat out,” they indignantly claim.  In saying this, they largely miss the point. Few who eat in sit-down cafes would claim than they can’t “afford” to tip.  A goodly number are displeased with the service and don’t feel that a tip is merited.  There’s a way to deal with the problem even under current conditions:  provide such superior service that customers will want to tip generously. 

 

No doubt, some waitpersons reading this are thinking, “I’d hate to have a mean, stingy customer like you.”  That would be wrong.  I always tip and begin with the assumption that the waitress should get fifteen percent.  But I do expect reasonable service and to that end, and To Insure Promptness, have established a sliding scale called the “Rule of Fifty” to determine the amount I leave on the table.  It bears no copyright and anyone wishing to adopt it may do so without providing me a gratuity as its creator.  The following is how it works. 

 

If we sit at a table more than ten minutes without being offered a menu, I subtract fifty cents and then fifty cents for each additional five minutes.  When I pointedly order water without lemon and it arrives with a thin slice of unwashed lemon polluting the entire glass, I deduct another fifty cents.  If my order is wrong, off comes fifty cents per item.  Each time a waitress younger than age eighty, addresses me as “Honey,” “Darling,” or “Sweetie,” since I’m a stern looking old man, not a cute four-year-old, I remove fifty cents.  If a waiter does it, I take away a dollar, although I feel it may not be entirely fair since it’s somewhat inconsistent with the Rule of Fifty.  Another fifty cents comes off each time my wife and I are addressed as “You guys” since we are far beyond teenage years and clearly one of us isn't male.  If “Can I get you guys anything else” is shouted from a distance I withhold fifty cents along with the retort, “No thank you, Ma’m” to a waiter or, “No thank you, Sir,” to a waitress.  Fifty cents comes off when I’m asked, “Are you still working on that?” since I am eating the food, not working on it.  Failure to remove empty dishes obviously placed at the end of the table for that purpose merits a reduction of another half-dollar.  If we wait longer than ten minutes on a check after concluding our meal, I deduct fifty cents, and then fifty cents for each additional five minutes.  In one extreme case, a waitress ended up owing me fifteen dollars.  She seemed to think she’d been ill used when I presented my bill. 

 

Self-service cafés, other than fast food, present new sets of possibilities.  If the place is deemed a “cafeteria,” an employee often takes the loaded trays to the table.  That’s a valuable service and should be rewarded since it’s hard to weave among tables and keep a level tray.  Dropping one’s food down the back of another patron tends to be embarrassing.  But there’s a problem.  Most of the time, the one carrying the tray also busses tables and comes directly from that odious, but necessary, task to help with germ-laden hands.  That might be tolerable, except that the person often isn’t content to put the tray down and leave, but seems to feel driven to place the food and silverware onto the table with the same hands that just cleared a table where sat a man with the flu, a cold, or hepatitis.  “I’ll do that,” is usually ignored unless I add, “Because you haven’t washed your hands.”  To say that creates awkwardness not conducive to a pleasant dining experience. 

 

A second type of self-service is the buffet�"unlimited food for a set price.  In that case, service may be truly minimal, calling for ten percent or less.  The customer picks up a plate, makes selections from the food bar, and often even gets his own silverware and napkins.  Often, the server (actually a bus boy by another name) brings the drinks and makes a second appearance when all in the party have finished to ask, “Can I get you anything else?”  I’ve pondered what response to make beyond, “No, thank you.”  What sense would it make to say any of these: “I’ll take another serving of beans.”  “Some more bread please.”  “Another slice of lemon pie.”  Get real.  We’ve finished eating.  It seems nothing more than a transparent bid for a tip by creating the illusion of service without doing much of anything.  There are, however, exceptions.  Some servers at a buffet provide a friendly greeting, keep drink glasses filled without touching the rim of the glass with the pitcher, suggest special items on the bar, and remove used dishes periodically throughout the meal.  That’s very good service and merits a generous tip.  Such a server does everything as his or her counterpart in a full-service establishment except select the food.  I’d really rather do that myself so I can get the best entrée, the freshest salad, and the biggest slice of cake.  But when it’s time for the gratuity, it’s ridiculous for a negligent server to expect much of anything.  I recall an occasion when we were completely ignored although seated on a main route for the waitpersons.  We even went behind the counter for glasses and poured our own drinks.  I thought surely one of them would be shamed into offering assistance, but not so.  It was time for decisive action.  On the back of a clean napkin, I printed “No service, therefore no tip” and placed it in plain sight on the table.  I didn’t want anyone to think I had forgotten, was impoverished, or was one of those grumps who never tip.   

 

A very few establishments remove any question by stating on the menu, “A fifteen percent gratuity is added to all orders.”  Fine.  That’s along the line of what I suggested earlier.  But let’s watch the phrasing.  A dictionary definition of “gratuity” is “something given without claim or demand.”  I’d rather be informed to expect a surcharge for the waiter without consideration of service provided.  At least it would be honest.  A compulsory “gratuity,” although inherently an oxymoron, probably is justified for large groups since their presence taxes the resources of the restaurant and the stamina of the servers.  I’ve heard waitresses say that such groups often leave tiny tips or even none at all regardless of the level of service. 

 

There are, however, circumstances in which I don’t tip in a place that sells food.  A prime example is the small shop that sells prepackaged food from a walk-up counter.  With increasing frequency, I spy a container by the cash register with a sign requesting tips. Oh, come on.  Who wouldn’t appreciate a bit of extra money?  But those employees aren’t waitpersons and so, by law, receive at least minimum wage, consistent with the low level at which they function.  How are they any more entitled to a gratuity that the clerk who takes my money for a loaf of bread at the Seven to Eleven?  There’s got to be a limit.  If one tips at a food counter, then how about the young persons who take my order and hand me my food at McDonald’s?  Tip them?  I think not.

 

Turning to another matter, paying at the table rather that at a cash register seems to me to be fraught with peril for the server, the customer, and even the establishment.  Perhaps it works as well as it does because it’s limited mainly to higher end eateries.  But there’s a built-in incentive for the server to be slow about picking up the vinyl case or tray with the money.  If the customer, disgusted at a long delay, gets up and leaves, it can logically be assumed that anything more than the cost of the meal is a gratuity.  But I’ve often wondered what happens if the payment comes up short.  In almost every case where I bother to look, we are going out the door with the money still lying on the table and the server nowhere in sight.  As long as it’s not a place where I will eat again, there seems to be nothing that could be done if I left a note, “Thanks for the free meal” instead of a stack of cash.  In that event, does the restaurant take the loss or is it charged to the server?  If the server picks up the folder while the customer is still at the table, it presents a test of integrity.  Many, most in my limited experience, are commendably honest and forthright:  “I’ll be right back with your change.”  That gives the customer the opportunity to reply, “I won’t need change.”  A considerable step down is the server who says, “Do you need change,” without looking at the amount tendered.  “Certainly I do.  There’s a hundred dollar bill in there,” is easy for some to say, but harder for others.  The bottom feeder among servers is the one who takes the folder, says “Come back to see us,” and walks away.  Problems are preventable.  The customer always has the option to say, “I’ve included a tip and won’t need change,” but I’ve seldom heard that.  Another upfront possibility, “Please bring my change.  I’ve give your tip when you return.” 

 

When it comes to home delivery of food, my view of tipping changes.  The teenager who delivers my pizza is, at least at that moment, dealing only with me, brings a product I’ve requested, drives his own car, and saves me a trip across town to pick it up.  Unless it arrives cold and soggy due to some fault of his own, this person has a right to a tip of ten percent, but no less than three dollars.  It’s entirely different from the one who, in a store truck, delivers a new sofa.  That person gets nothing. 

 

Food take-out, in my opinion, calls for no tip whatever.  Some “authorities” publicly state otherwise, but they’re wrong.  Usually establishments that provide take out have drive up windows.  Even for those few who don’t, typically, it isn’t a server who delivers the order and takes the money.  Since cooks and cashiers aren’t tipped, what basis can there be for a gratuity since no service was rendered? 

 

What about tipping for services not associated with the food industry.  There’s an enormous amount of disagreement so my opinion is probably as good or bad as that of anybody else. 

 

I’ve heard of men who tip a barber, but never have seen it done.  In my case, I feel that, with nothing more than a rim of hair around the edges, I should pay half price.  I’ve never requested that, nor has it been offered, but I surely see no reason to add a tip for my barber when he’s doing far less than the normal job. I don’t presume to comment on women tipping their hairdressers.  That may be entirely different. 

 

At a hotel, the bellman should be tipped, the amount depending on the practice at each place.  If one porter brings bags from the car to the registration desks and abandons you, then give one dollar a bag, but a two-dollar minimum.  Here’s the game they intend to play:  another bellman will assist you from the registration desk to the room and also expect to be tipped.  For that person, assuming good service, consider a five dollar minimum and more in a ritzy place.  Add nothing extra for such pseudo services as showing the location of the bathroom or how to turn on the lights.  “Duh,” as teenagers may say.  If the same person goes the entire distance from car to room, he is due the entire amount. 

 

The housekeeper at a hotel always expects a tip, but I find it hard to want to leave one for a person I never see and with whom I have no interaction.  That’s especially true when the room is less clean that it should be.  If I’m staying one night only, I usually leave nothing, especially if I find an envelope with the maid’s name placed on my table.  But for multiple nights, I grudgingly leave a gratuity of two dollars each day to reduce the likelihood of theft.  To provide it in a lump sum on the last day of the stay doesn’t give that protection.  To me, the whole thing smacks of paying a street mongrel to “watch my car” when I’m forced to park in an insecure location.  It borders on extortion. 

 

At some hotels, the only available parking is valet.  A few suggest a tip when the car is parked, but I wait until it’s retrieved to give two to three dollars and then only after a quick check for new scrapes and dents. 

 

One grocery store in my hometown has boys who will take the bags to the car and place them inside.  If I have only one, I smile and say, “That’s okay, I’ll take care of it.”  But when, as usually is the case, the buggy is filled, I’m happy to tip a dollar or two for help getting to the car.  Such special service should be rewarded. 

 

There are some whom, for one reason or another, I never give a tip under any circumstances.  Mail carriers head the list since they are well-paid people with an adequate retirement plan.  The adult newspaper delivery person, while not highly compensated, does nothing beyond the minimum of tossing the paper from a passing car, so I can see no basis for a gratuity.  That I subscribe to the newspaper furnishes the person employment.  To tip such an individual violates the entire concept of reward for good service.  Another undeserving group is garbage collectors who clang by weekly in the early hours to bang cans and grind up garbage, often leaving debris in my yard and the can lying in the edge of the street.  Some reader may think it’s good enough for me since I don’t give them anything, but a neighbor who does tip has similar experiences.  Poor service should never be rewarded. 

 

I can imagine seething anger to the point of foaming at the mouth from those who unworthily crave gratuities or deserve much smaller ones than they seem to consider their birthright.  Fume on.  I spent considerable time writing this material and am paid nothing for my effort.  Where’s my tip?