Anytime we go out to eat, which is generally not that often, Sean and I always end up having a debate about the tip. Here’s the deal:
Sean says it’s 20% for a good server, a lot less (no set percentage, whatever he feels) for a bad server.
I say it’s 20% flat out and more for a good server.
My theory is that a lot of times tips are factored in to a server’s pay. So they may make WAY below the minimum wage because people figure they’ll get tips, and that’ll make up for the pay difference. And even if the service is not the best, people are still serving you.
I had a Groupon for a pizza place nearby to our apartment (called Buckhead Pizza Co.) for a $30 meal for $15. We got a medium pizza, an appetizer, two drinks, and a salad. Pretty good deal. All we had to pay was tax ($1.52). The meal would have normally been about $27 with all we got. So Sean offered to pay for the tip: $5.
Our waiter (while awkward) was super-nice. Knew when to come and ask about us, left us alone when you’d want to be left alone at a restaurant. He wasn’t a hoverer or an ignorer. He was super nice about the whole Groupon thing. And we were pretty much the only ones there. So I made him tip the guy $8. I stole the receipt from him, wrote the tip and signed his name. It was only fair.
After our pizza adventure Monday night, I was feeling pretty blah. Especially since I didn’t go to my normal class at the YMCA or even do an exercise DVD. So I suggested we go for a run to feel like we did something that night…
I don’t suggest you run after 2 garlic knots, a salad, and a slice of cheese pizza. My stomach was really quite ready to give up the food it thought was so delicious a few hours before. Yucko.
I downloaded some new songs for my running playlist, though, and one I’m super into right now is “Lose Yourself” by Eminem. The beat is perfect for my comfortable stride and the lyrics really make me feel motivated. Especially,
So here I go it’s my shot.
Feet fail me not, this may be the only opportunity that I got
It’s like the song crescendos up to that point. Also, I get pretty distracted trying to decipher his lyrics which helps me keep my mind off the fact that I’m running (especially when I’m running with pizza belly).
While we were running on Monday we passed this older lady who was running in the opposite direction. And she wasn’t wearing a bra. It was the most painful looking thing I think I have ever seen. They weren’t particularly huge or small, but it looked like they were smacking her in the face and then slamming down. Ouch! It made me want to go out and buy duct tape to keep my ladies in place while running.