A tip about tips
Like everything right now, it's confusing!
Last week, I took a walk with a friend after dropping our kids at camp, and we decided to pop into a coffee shop to grab something to drink. I ordered an iced tea, and for the first time in I don’t know how long, I declined the tip option. I’ve felt guilty about it ever since.
Later that day, or maybe the next, Ken was out picking up his amp that had been repaired, and he needed me to Venmo the guy who fixed it. At the end of the process, a pop-up appeared asking me if I wanted to add a tip. We just dropped $400 to repair the amp. I definitely didn’t want to tip. And I was annoyed. The gall of this guy!
I know I’m not the only one who feels overwhelmed by the requests for tips that come up at every turn. There are countless articles on the topic and even a New Yorker cartoon about just how awkward it’s gotten. Sixty-six percent of Americans are grumpy about tipping, according to a recent Bankrate survey. And 32% are mad about pre-entered tip screens, which definitely come up at the weirdest times.
I mean, of course I don’t want to add a tip for the bottle of water that I’m purchasing via self-checkout at the airport. This damn bottle is already $7! And who even gets that tip? The robots?
But the concept of tipping has always been kind of strange, right? For the most part, we as a society avoid the topic of money, and we’re discouraged from ever talking about things like salaries. And then we go to a restaurant or a coffee shop and have a direct interaction with someone where at the end of it, we evaluate how well they did by paying them. I’m sensitive about nearly every interaction I have with anyone where I feel like they’re evaluating my performance. I can’t even imagine what it feels like to have a friendly conversation with a customer, to make them a lovely latte, only to see that they hit “no tip.” Wah wah. (No, I never had a waitressing job. Maybe I’d be tougher if I did?)