After working 20 years, I left the restaurant industry back in 2006.  It was a sad day, seeing as how waiting tables helped keep me sane in college and kept funny money in my pocket thereafter.   I always enjoyed being a server.  It was mindless.  It was fun.  And it was damn good money.

Well, for the most part.

To this day, I still remember the two tables that didn’t plunk down any gratuity.  One was a couple that was in the midst of an ugly domestic squabble.  And the other was just a random table of three people.   There was nothing memorable about them at all — except they didn’t leave me a tip.  Did they forget?  Were they European?  Stupid?  Hateful?  I feel like I have waited on hundreds of thousands of people over the years and that particular table still sticks in my head.

There are three kinds of tippers in the world.  Those who get it.  Those who don’t.  And the third kind fall into that trifecta of either being old, foreign or Jesus freaks.  My dad, bless his heart — has finally broken his habit of leaving 10% after I lost my ever-loving mind with him a couple times.  He thought 10% was still the going rate for gratuity.  In my world, that’s like being peed on.  Foreigners are forgiven, meanwhile, simply because they don’t know any better.  America is greedy … what can I say?  And don’t even get me started on the religious Reich.  You know EXACTLY who you are … zealots who leave little bits of religious propaganda nestled in with your loose change.  Believe me, there’s a special place in hell for you.

I was a phenomenal server … effective and efficient.  I managed to be pleasant and brusque at the same time.  Those are my two favorite qualities in a server to this day.   Do NOT chitchat with me.  Do NOT sit or squat down at my table.  (Are you listening Outback Steakhouse?!)  And do NOT dilly-dally with the check.  There.  I feel better.

I’m a notoriously good tipper.  If you see me sitting at your table, you’re almost bound to get a good tip … simply because I feel your pain.  Standard is 20-25% … more if you follow my rules.  Always follow my lead.  If I look content, I probably am.  If I look disgruntled, I probably am.  And if I’m standing at your wait station asking for my check, you’d had better stop what you’re doing and cater to my every whim because your tip is going to be, GASP!, about 10%.

I’d like to give a shout out to all the hard-working restaurant professionals out there.  When comedians say, “Ladies and Gents, tip your waiters and waitresses”, they mean it.  Whether or not you try the veal is totally up to you.