Big Tippin'

I'm not one of those guys who doesn't tip, or who tips based on service. Even a rude, shitty waiter is gonna get 15%. That's the way society works. But there are some situations where I simply don't understand the tip. Actually, I understand the tip, I don't understand the amount of the tip.

Mainly I'm talking about coffeehouses. I routinely see people throwing dollar bills into the tip jar. And when I say "bills", that's what I mean. Like $2 tips. On a $3 coffee. Does that make any sort of sense? To me some sort of psychological overcompensating is going on.

Now, you're probably thinking I'm a cheap bastard who doesn't tip at a coffeehouse. Well, yes and no. I am a cheap bastard, but I do tip at coffeehouses. My tab is $2.25? Well you just got 75 cents. My tab is $2.75? Well, just a quarter today, but still better than a kick in the pants. But lately, after watching the people ahead of me make it rain, I feel like a cheap bastard who hates baristas. Like my mere change in a tip jar is some sort of insult.

I get coffee every single day, and sometimes multiple times in one day. I can't keep up with you bastards and your paper tips. Besides, homes are being foreclosed everywhere, there are food riots worldwide, they did a remake of Prom Night...armegeddon is near. Time to start hording. The baristas will survive.

Tips (meaning money, not advice) for my blogging/whining can be given here. Pretend I just gave you a soy, half-caf macchiato.

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