Tag: restaurants

Tip Top Tipping

A blogging friend, Claudette, at www.writerofwordsetc.wordpress.com recently posted about enjoying dinner at a diner with her teenaged son. The dinner offered some teachable moments for Claudette and her son. One such lesson was on tipping wait staff. I loved how Claudette let her son know that the middle aged server who’d waited on them in the diner was most likely counting on her tips to make ends meet.

In the U.S., as in Claudette’s country, Canada, most wait staff depend on their tips to make a living wage. That’s sad and wrong, but it’s the way things work at this point in time. I typically tip 20% of the bill. If the service is stellar, or if my party has tied up the booth for a longer than average time, I’ll tip 25%, and on a very rare occasion, in the event of horrible service I’ll tip 15%. But I still tip.

I haven’t always tipped when the service has been bad, but a friend who worked as a waiter reminded me that everyone has an off day now and again. That’s certainly true in my case. Hell, I’d hate to think what my tips might’ve been as a waitress.

Now, I have mixed emotions about tipping clerks at a fast food restaurant. In Florida, there’s a tip jar on almost every counter. I do tip the barista at Starbucks who remembers my order better than I do. I also tip at my favorite vegan place because even though ordering is done at the counter, a waiter brings the food out and makes sure everything is okay. But do I really need to tip at Burger King?

What are your thoughts about that sort of tipping? I could use some guidance.

Peace, people!

Habit, Just Saying

Written in response to the Daily Post’s Daily Prompt:

Quirk of Habit

Which quirky habit annoys you the most, and what quirky habit do you love — in yourself, or other people?

Some things just annoy the heck out of me, but because I am polite and civilized I never call people out on these niggling bits. Okay, every now and then I might say something like, “Are you a freaking idiot?” That’s polite, right?

There are two verbal tics that make me clench my jaw and grind my teeth. The first is the insertion of the phrase, “you know” into every sentence–sometimes multiple times. 

Example: I was, you know, going to, you know, buy a new brassiere, but, you know, they’re just too, you know, expensive.”

You might think I’m exaggerating, but my college roommate was a world champion “you knower.” I found myself copying her speech pattern and flipping “you knows” about like pieces of confetti. When I realized what I’d done I had a long talk with myself and banned the phrase from my vocabulary. You know, I’ve been fairly, you know, successful. 

The other thing that drives me crazy is hearing people, most often women, order their food in a restaurant by saying, “Could I have…?” Even if I don’t know the person, even if she is sitting two tables over I want to leap up and say, “It’s on the damned menu! Of COURSE you can have it.” 

Instead I say a silent curse at whatever cultural practice makes women think they have to ask for permission to order something that is clearly available for purchase. It’s the same as our reflexive “I’m sorry” for things that aren’t our fault. I’m guilty of that one, lest you think me perfect. And I am so sorry.

http://videos.nymag.com/video/Inside-Amy-Schumer-I-m-Sorry
Quirky habits I love? That’s a little more difficult. I love the way Studly Doright can fall asleep and begin snoring softly the minute he closes his eyes. Of course sometimes this habit falls into the annoying category if I’m unable to join him in slumber within five minutes.

Another habit I love is one found in those people who are so filled with gratitude that “thank you,” in many different forms has become habit. My friend LeeAnn is one of these people. Her conversation is peppered with sincere expressions of gratitude, “How kind!” “What a blessing!” and, “I’m so thankful.”

Likewise my friend Janie has made a habit of finding the good in every situation. She calls herself a “lucky, lucky girl” and she makes everyone else more observant of the good in their own lives.

I’m sorry, but I’m just not good at being thankful, you know. Sorry. You know, I’m working on it.  

 

From the book, Nuns Just Wanna Have Fun.
 
Peace, people!

Mouthing Off

I scalded the roof of my mouth several days ago while dining on the exquisite Fit Fare Veggie Skillet at the Denny’s just down the road. Before you look down your nose at my choice of restaurant let me assure you that our Denny’s in Midway, Florida, is the best in the world. It is well-managed with an efficient and personable wait staff, and food that looks exactly like the pictures featured on the glossy menu, and tastes just like I need it to taste.

When my favorite server brought me my favorite meal I dug right in and was immediately rewarded by that ohmygoshtoohottoohot!!! panic. I couldn’t very well spit the food into my plate so I grabbed my ice cold soda and took a long drink, holding the liquid in my mouth until the food cooled.

I knew immediately that I’d pay for my eager gluttony for days, after all, this wasn’t my first burning mouth event. But I don’t think I’ve ever gotten actual blisters in my mouth before. Worst of all I couldn’t even drink my coffee this morning! Maybe I should just go back to bed. To heal.

Me on a day when my mouth didn’t hurt. That’s Studly Doright guiding me around the dance floor.

Peace, people! 

Postscript: Several days after scalding my mouth I’ve been rinsing with lots of Shiner Bock beer. Salt water would probably be better for the healing process, but it doesn’t mellow me out like beer does.