The ever-brilliant David Mitchell wrote this article on the awkwardness of tipping: www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2009/oc
This is a subject that has always confused me. Why should the customer's generosity make up for the employer's stinginess in wages? Why are some professions "tipping professions" and others not? I used to work in the theatre, and a wardrobe mistress I worked with used to get into a flurry if one of the actors didn't tip her at the end of the run. Now the lighting, sound, props and set crew never expected tips and yet she was adamant that her role deserved it more than the others because of her "personal contact" with the actors. (Nevermind that as the Stage Manager I frequently had actors calling me at 3 am to ask for a phone number for a towing service, cab company or local doctor, and on occasion was responsible for making sure one of the cast members took his medication at the same time every night.) If "personal contact" is what is required to determine what is a tip-worthy profession, why don't we tip nurses? Librarians? Or shoe salesmen?
Many a waiter or waitress will say they have earned their tips, and I don't disagree, but why should a Starbucks employee have to hope that anonymous people they see for 2 minutes will add enough money to a jar so that they can make a living wage? The amount of personal contact there is the same as in a bookshop, but you don't see Waterstone's employees with a tip jar at the till. What's the difference?
David Mitchell is right in saying that the service shouldn't be negotiable in a restaurant if the decor and food aren't. As a customer, I don't feel I can punish the server for a shoddy meal, but a large tip seems to reward bad cooking. So what do I do? Like David, I don't make a fuss but feel terrible if I don't leave a decent tip. And I am one of those people who leaves their change in a Starbucks jar, but I don't feel good about doing it. I know it isn't the employee's fault; it's the system. And how do you fight such a pervasive system?
