To Tip or Not to Tip
To Tip or Not to Tip
The elusive tip - one of the most confusing aspects of our society. The Bible and the Beatles would say that there is a time to tip and a time to hoard. But how does one know when – and how much – to tip? After a great deal of traveling experience, I have developed some basic rules for tipping.
For instance, when the pizza driver shows up for his bi-weekly visit to my house, I’ll usually tip anywhere from $1 to $5 depending on how much the delivery charge is and how many shows starring Regis Philbin I have had to watch.
Most of the time, I stick to ground transportation - which has its own problems. My choice in fine quality automobile transportation usually leaves me relying on one of two people to get around the city.
First, the tow-truck driver. His tip is usually pretty good because I feel sorry for the guy. My car tends to break down at
The second person directly involved in my transportation is the taxi driver. I still debate between paying him extra and just letting him have the spare change that fell out of my pocket when the cab made the jump to hyperspace just after leaving the waffle print on my face from the rapid stop.
Granted, there are some obvious situations – one trust must tip the poor, insane waitress-soon-to-be actress just in case she becomes famous and decides to send out her twin sumo bodyguards, Lars and Ivan, to exact revenge on all those tightwads who stiffed her on tips.
Perhaps the most enigmatic tip of all is the coffee-shop tip. I admit – I don’t get it. The nice people at the fast-food restaurant don’t have a tip jar. But for some reason, when I go to pick up my venti soy latte, I find myself face-to-face with the ever-puzzling tip jar.
After months of watching and observing, I’ve made some observations. First, the pickiness of people when it comes to their coffee far surpasses anyone ordering fast-food, pumping gas, or requesting brain surgery.

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