Guilt

I just finished a lunch with my daughter and her husband and the subject of tipping came up. This is an activity that happens across the country millions of times a day. Eat a meal, leave a tip. I wonder why it is that this rather mundane activity is mostly generated by guilt. There is no guilt in leaving a tip. The guilt lies in not leaving a tip. Or deciding how much to leave?

It is now an old fashion thought that tipping was to reward good service. Today it is a social requirement. If you don't think so, wait until the next time you are with a group of your peers and after a meal where the service has been less than desired declare that you are not leaving a tip. Oh, the uproar. What a cheapskate. So then the guilt starts. How much? I grew up when the norm was 15%. Somewhere along the line when I wasn't watching someone in charge of such things changed it to 20%. I suspect that person was also a waiter or waitress. But, here it is. How much do I leave. The waitress was slow and inattentive. I asked for the check and she brought it but somehow didn't take the hint that I was ready to go and she disappears for twenty minutes. Not across the room helping someone, I mean gone. Not there. Absent. For twenty minutes. How much? Do I teach her a lesson and leave 10%? How about 15%. That's my old number. That's enough. But, my wife sits next to me. Watching this internal battle. The waitress finally brings the bill, takes the credit card and this time is back in a second. I study it hard and with my wife watching I fill in 20%. I don't want the waitress to think I'm a cheapskate. My wife already knows.