Life of Hardin Vol. IV, No. 19

Big Tipper

When it comes to leaving tips, I have never been a cheerful giver. I never saw the joy in leaving extra money when a restaurant owner should have paid sufficiently in the first place. I am now struck with a twinge of conscience when I think of my several friends who worked for tips and often offered to dance on the tables of their customers just for an extra two bits.

But I am not struck too badly. I left the suggested percentage. Just not cheerfully. Unless of course I ate at Logan’s and the waitress kept me stock full of yeast rolls. That type of waiter earns special honor.

My displeasure in tipping came mostly from my failure to see the joy in it. I have seen it now. Paraguay has helped somewhat with that. The percentage of gratuity here is 10% rather than 15%, so I am actually trained to overtip. That bodes well for a person who eats at the same restaurants over and over. I no longer have to rush out of restaurants before the table is cleaned. I no longer have to slip back in and sit at a different table to avoid the previous one.

There is something to be said of being a regular customer at a restaurant where you leave a large tip. A new restaurant just opened here in Paraguay. It has a nice outdoor patio. It also has good ice cream at a fair price.

My wife and I stopped in to try said ice cream. The waiter told us to sit where we wanted. So we chose a table where we could watch the world go by while we ate. The waiter brought us our double-scoop cones, and then the check as we finished. It was two dollars.

I had no change for the tip. So as much as it pained me, I was stuck leaving a dollar tip on a two dollar check. If you do the math, that comes to a 33% tip.

My wife and I returned to said restaurant another night to try their regular food. As we walked up the waiter greeted us with a smile.

“Would you like your table?” he asked. He showed us to the same place we sat on our previous visit.

The menus appeared before us in a flash. We ordered and then watched the world go by as we waited. But we didn’t have to wait long. Our waiter slid a tray in front of us.

I began to say, “We didn’t order this,” but he cut me off.

“I thought you might like to try this while you waited on your food.” He set a small bowl of chips and dip down.

It was at that moment that I can truly say I felt the joy of overtipping. It was a warm, fuzzy feeling, much the same as holding a new puppy in your arms or opening presents on Christmas morning.

I like being a regular customer. I have a usual table. I have a usual waiter. Food is placed before me without the need to order. Needless to say, I overtipped again and felt good about it.

I think I will start leaving that extra 40 cents more often.