Well, no. I won’t throw my napkin on the floor.
I'm especially fond of delivery. Love delivery. And I’m not talking only about pizza, the Old Reliable of the I’m-Too-Tired/Busy/Hungry-to-Cook standby. I’m talking about Chinese food, liquor, movies – anything that they bring to the door. Big, big time-saver/enabler for the ill-equipped amongst us.
We tip, heavily, at my house. Acquainted in the most intimate of ways with the food service industry in both my former and current work life, I can only say that it is in your best interest to tip your servers. This includes the man who brought your lasagna and garlic bread to the front door.
I’m not saying that people will spit in your food if you don’t, but – oh, wait. Yes. Actually, that is what I’m saying. Disgusting? Yes. Immoral? Probably. Commonplace? You'd be surprised.
And speaking of tipping, why have I been tipping the guy that walks my coffee the four feet between the coffee maker and the counter at Starbucks?
I love their coffee and probably pick up a cup two or three times a week; but can someone explain that tip jar to me? I mean, I do it – I tip them, so help me God – but why am I tipping them? Is it truly a tip? Is it to make up for what must surely be a meager hourly wage?
They couldn't manage to spit in my coffee between the pot behind the counter and the counter itself, could they?
So here's today's thought; and actually it looks like I’ve managed two – almost three! – of them:
- Food delivery: Yes. Good;
- What am I tipping for, and why? To have food brought to my door? Completely worthy. To have food brought to me without un-ordered body fluids? I’m not as excited about this one, but sure, seems like a wise investment, and;
- Tipping to have my coffee moved from there to here? I’m still working that one out.
Now if the baristas would bring me a coffee – and maybe a lovely cheese danish – to the bus stop on my way to work in the morning, I’m willing to tip for that.