Little Piggy Goes Oink-Oink

This is not about Iran.

Back in the days before my innocence was lost, I used to find myself in that crowd of “why tip the waitress?” or “give dat ho a dollar”. After bowing to the American greed-beast and finally having to pay for myself, I found myself looking at the waitress with a different perspective. I’m not talking about looking at her anatomy through that tight-fitting apron. I’m talking about her job load. Waitresses make like 3 dollars an hour if they are lucky, and like they said in Reservoir Dogs, they live off your tips and it is a job basically anyone can get. So I started being more generous with my tips once I realized we are all in this cesspool together, trying to keep afloat in wounded rafts.

That’s when I saw the cops sitting across the restaurant. Sometimes, when the moon is right, I can get back to Bedford and make it to the breakfast buffet at a restaurant in town. The other day I was there, and there was a number of our heroes in blue sitting there enjoying their coffee and breakfast around a table. There were 6 cops. I got my food and sat down, and as I sat down, they were on their way out. I looked over and saw 3 dollars on the table. Now DB is at a cross-roads. As some of you know, I have been getting a lot more confrontational lately. My restraint is coming apart at the seams, it seems. I immediately made a move to follow those cops out of the restaurant and scold them like toddlers, but I managed to catch myself and sit back down. They clearly received a discount on their meals, like all cops do, and I was extremely irritated that they left this waitress a very meager tip. So I called her over and said, “Let me ask you something. Did those jakes get a discount?” After telling her what “jakes” meant, she told me that they did indeed receive a discount… a discount of a meal completely on the house. So of course the next thing I said was to the effect of “they got free meals and left you 3 dollars?” She told me that they actually left 6 dollars in total, but that some of them are very cheap. I nodded and said “okay” and she walked away.

Now, I suppose the devil’s advocate here throws out the “20 percent of nothing is nothing, she was paid more than she should have been”. She did not buy them this meal. Regardless of whether or not the meal was on the house, the waitresses aren’t making that decision. It is my opinion that a dollar per officer is still a pretty big slap in the face. If I ever received free food, I always tipped higher, mainly because it just felt right.

While sitting there I developed a concept that I have now adopted. No matter what my bill comes to, I will never again tip a waitress anything less than the cost of a gallon of gasoline. If my bill is 80 cents for coffee, she is getting $2.55 for a tip. If the bill comes anything where $2.55 is too SMALL of a tip, I’m going to give her somewhere in the neighborhood of 30 percent.

There is not one person reading this, or that I know in real life (including Leo and his house of wanksters) that cannot afford to tip somebody more than a dollar. If you have a job at all, you can afford it. If you are OUT AT A RESTAURANT, you can clearly afford to tip the goddamn waitress. So no more dollar tips, cheapskates. If I see you leave a dollar on a table, be prepared to be asswhipped until you just give in to shut me up. There better be a damn good reason why you can’t leave more than a dollar. Be a fucking gentleman.

I find it interesting that our police officers, who pay for nothing, still find it acceptable to skimp on their tips. For us paying their salaries, they sure as hell act put-out when you need their assistance.

Now I will tell you a tale of bad waitressing that does not deserve any tip.

An associate of mine (we’ll call him “Tommy Dolan”) and myself went down to Altoona to Outback. We have a fondness for the delicacies of prison colonies. Our waitress was about 19. She was okay at first, then she decided it was okay to sit at the table behind us and engage in seriously a 20 minute conversation with some old fat dude who was talking about Los Angeles and Iraq. I’m sure their conversation was both mind-numbing and awe-inspiring. Our waitress unraveled her life’s story about how she graduated high school, moved to NY to be an actress, got dumped by her agency, tried to be a model, got dumped by her agency, and moved to Altoona to “jumpstart her career”. How many goddamn actresses do you know that have moved to Altoona for work? Then she started talking about Japan and the Phillipines and who the fuck knows. Dolan was laughing his ass off. I was infuriated, and we both had to basically get our own drinks because Julia Roberts was engaged in such a deep, soul-scraping conversation with some old dude who clearly was looking for a piece of impressionable ass to pound into dust and then cut up with a butterfly knife. This place was pretty damn packed. It was the first time I ever gave a waitress a tip of $0.00. Dolan gave her a dollar. Goddamn Aussies need to learn how to keep their bitchass waitresses in line.

One response to “Little Piggy Goes Oink-Oink

  1. Well…just remember everyone behind the scenes at the restaurant spat in their coffee and donuts or messed with their food in some way. (Five second rule, anyone?) They’ll get what’s coming to them.

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