It took some time getting used to tipping in America, and I still have a problem with it. Over the years, Lindsay and I have had many a healthy and heated argument about my resistance to the automatic 20% tip, our cultures and personal experiences clashing like pot lids being banged against each other. No need to go into the details because in this clip from Quentin Tarantino’s movie Reservoir Dogs, Mr. Pink (Steve Buscemi) outlines some of my arguments.
After all the back and forth, Lindsay and I have reached a quiet understanding: the one who pays decides on the tip and if the money’s ours we go with the convention of the country we are in. As for me, I tip like a combination of an educated, Slovak immigrant and a naturalized (read: Americanized) U.S. citizen that I am. Call me Average Tipper.
No Tip, No Cry
In the past couple of years, more and more reports have been coming out about (mostly New York City) restaurants eliminating tipping, mainly to benefit their employees (see here, here, and here) as well as sensible arguments against tipping (see here). An anti-tipping movement actually benefiting restaurant staff? I might just sign up.
To go out on a funny note, here’s a segment from Larry David’s HBO show Curb Your Enthusiasm on coordinating tips: