Calm-ass Husband and I perpetually have a back and forth about tipping servers. He says our difference of opinion is because I never was a server. I say our difference of opinion is because I’ve worked in customer service and value a good customer service experience.
As such, we tip very differently.
If I have a good experience, I will tip a server well. If I have a bad experience, I will tip them 25 cents. I used to tip them nothing, but then an ex-server said that if you do that, they are more likely to think you just forgot the tip, rather than understanding that you didn’t tip them because their service was unsatisfactory.
CAH, on the other hand, will leave the same tip regardless of service. He thinks this is fair. I think that, in the case of bad servers, this is rewarding bad behavior.
To be fair, I am the one with a background working with dogs.
Not long ago I was at the Chili’s at the O’Hare airport, called “Chili’s Too.”
I had had a long day of travel and was tired and starving. I stopped in at the Chili’s to grab a bite, and the hostess placed me at the bar to order some food.
I sat down next to a girl with big blonde hair and huge fake boobs. She seemed nice enough, but the bartender seemed to think she was some sort of Victoria’s Secret Angel. He barely acknowledged me, but kept asking her personal questions. I quickly gleaned that she was stuck in between flights and may have to spend the night in Chicago.
I’m sure he was hoping it would be at his house.
Now I don’t fancy myself a cock-blocker and, despite the fact that it was so obvious she was not at all interested in him, I don’t begrudge some flirtation.
But what got me is the fact that, not only was he not even acknowledging me to take my order, when he finally did interact with me, he made it seem like I was the biggest pain in his ass!
Bartender: Did you want something?
WAW: Yes, I’d love some chips and salsa, and a glass of your house Chardonnay.
Bartender: (SIGH) That’s it?
20 minutes passes and I see Blonde Big Boobs order more beer, chips and salsa after me, and get it before me.
WAW: Excuse me?
Bartender: (doesn’t even say anything, just looks at me)
WAW: Hi, sorry to bother you, can I have that wine?
Bartender: I will bring it out with the chips and salsa.
He told me to wait for my fucking wine until be brought out my chips.
Mind you, we were at the actual bar. It’s not like it was going to cost much more effort than reach for a glass and the wine bottle. He probably could have kept his feet planted firmly on the ground and still would have been able to get that glass of wine.
When he finally brought out my wine, chips and salsa, I decided to pre-order another glass of wine given that I didn’t want another 20 minutes to go by from the time I ordered it after the first glass was gone.
WAW: Thank you – can I ord-
He walked away while I was mid-sentence. I didn’t even get that second glass of wine.
At this point, I realized I had two options:
1) I could leave him my normal 25 cents
2) I could leave him a much more useful tip
I chose option #2: