My Duty

The purpose of this blog is not to inspire people towards better tipping habits; however, I feel it is my duty to servers everywhere that I write the following…

[Again, I promise not to make this rant a habit. Spiritual issues are what I write most… though, just maybe, if we all think hard enough, we might realize that this IS one…]

I make $2.13 an hour… or $2.19. I can never remember which it is for two main reasons. 1. I apparently get my 3s and 9s mixed up. Some off-beat form of dyslexia, I’m sure; and 2. Uncle Sam takes every bit of my paycheck so I never actually SEE my wages per hour. It’s depressing to pick up a bimonthly paycheck for $0.00 so I just leave it in the office and let them shred it at their earliest convenience.

I tell you this not to make you gasp at how little servers are paid [though I think you should]; rather, I tell you this in order to squash the age-old myth that servers make minimum wage. We don’t. Our livelihood, the bread [or fries, I should say] that we are able to buy for our own tables, is solely based on how generous you feel on any given day.

Perhaps this seems very unfair to you. As it should! Imagine if every dollar you earned was based solely on the particular mood or mindset of random people from day to day. You will hear, er read, me say the following phrase again and again... People feel with their money. People think with their money. The majority of people who are having a bad day will not tip as well as usual. The majority of people who are low on cash but can meet their bill with a small tip will not pull out their credit card just to ensure their server a few more bucks. The majority of people will tip servers who are more like them – extroverted if they themselves are extroverted, witty if they themselves are witty, of a similar age or race or ‘hottness’ factor. People feel, think, and judge with their money – this is in no way fair, and most often totally subconscious, but this IS life. God may not be partial but people definitely are.

This is my point. Yes, I’m getting there. I pay my rent with what you leave on the table. If you don’t want all that loose change at the bottom of your purse then what makes you think I do? By eating out, you insert yourself into part of my paycheck. Don’t like it? Don’t think it’s fair? Think that the restaurant should be responsible for their servers’ livelihood? Think that! But also realize that’s not reality. The reality is servers walk an average of 12 miles a day in order to retrieve your honey mustard… and your extra lemons… and your thirteenth sweet tea refill. Ask yourself what your server is doing for you – because most often they are NOT taking smoke-breaks and standing around aimlessly. They are well-aware that their utility bill is coming out of YOUR pocket and they are trying their hardest to make you happy.

[Quick disclaimer: I am not deceiving myself into believing that there exist no really bad servers in the world – servers who never ring in the correct food, are oblivious to the fact that you have been without Dr. Pepper for 17 minutes, and who also seem to disappear for great lengths of time only to be found taking eleven “smoke-breaks” an hour and/or eating fries in the back. I am not discussing these servers. However, I WILL say that my theology where they are concerned is this: Tip them well, for the mere reason that no one else will. Gift them with grace. Trust me, your lack of tip will in no way “teach them a lesson”. Rather, they will always misconstrue it as stinginess and greed on your end rather than poor service on theirs.]

By eating out, you are inserting yourself into someone else’s livelihood. If you’re not willing to pay for your service then there’s a fast-food drive-thru on every corner. Honestly, this isn’t about me trying to convict you of your meager 10% tips. The truth is, we should ALL be convicted because it’s about how we look at people. That person who brings your water “with two lemons, extra ice” is a mother, a father, a daughter, a son, a student. That person is someone who experiences pain and joy. Look them in the face. Remember their name. They are made of the same thing you are, and they deserve to be acknowledged, appreciated, and given the same treatment you would wish for yourself.

May each of us envision ‘eating out’ as an opportunity – a chance to insert ourselves into a stranger’s life and give them a gift of grace if nothing else. We are all connected, and in some way we all rely on one another to survive. May we be people who are generous, understanding, and patient… with our drink refills. And may each of us give, and love, in ways that we want for ourselves. Because in the smallest acts of grace, generosity, and love this world becomes a better place.