"tips" news and stories

Although every shred of evidence underscores the contrary, there are still diners who insist the word "tips" is an acronym for "to insure prompt service." Such revisionist etymology got me wondering: Are there gratuity-dodgers who believe "tips" stands for "to introduce people to salvation"?

Because, really, what else would compel a restaurant goer to tuck a gospel tract into a check presenter? Folks who haven't worked in the service industry are always startled to learn how frequently servers' hard work earns them a pamphlet about heaven and hell instead of a cash tip. The practice is so widespread that tract publishers have even devised literature that looks like a dollar bill, allowing diners to fool and cheat their waitresses in one fell swoop.

To be clear, I have no problem with my customers unobtrusively spreading the gospel. I wish more diners would include printed material with their tips; I'd love to amass a collection of poems and news clippings my customers considered noteworthy. But the critical phrase here is "with their tips." What's infuriating about the gospel-tract habit is that the tracts are rarely accompanied by money.

Photo: Joe Shlabotnik, Flickr.

For workers who are paid to interact with customers, servers spend an inordinate amount of time on the floor. It's nearly impossible to get through a shift without having to stoop to sweep up cupfuls of Cheerios up-ended by a fidgety toddler, table scraps discarded by loutish diners who apparently take their etiquette cues from William Hogarth paintings or -- most frequently -- puddles of pennies.

I've worked in greasy spoons where hot dogs sold for 85 cents and coin transactions were the norm; I hardly expect a customer to charge a quarter cup of coffee. But in nicer restaurants, where servers don't bark orders across the room and salads don't arrive to the table encased in plastic wrap, coins are nothing but trouble -- any server who's picked up a check presenter and immediately showered their feet with the coins tucked inside it knows exactly what I mean.

Some of the blame clearly lies with the coin-fearing credit-card companies that issue said presenters, designed to accommodate only plastic. But there's really no reason for most restaurant customers to use change in the first place. What's the harm in leaving $72 when the bill's $71.88? Can a server not be trusted for a moment with an extra 12 cents?

I find coins so messy that I typically ignore them, even if it means I end up shouldering a portion of a table's bill. If a guest gives me three twenties to cover a $58.43 bill, I'll return $2 – knowing most guests will leave me both singles. While some of my fellow servers are far more punctilious, I still haven't figured out a good way to sort coins in my apron or rationalize the dead weight of a few rolls of dimes.

Photo: Erix, Flickr

Want to really confuse your server? Leave a 15-percent tip.

There's nothing more ambiguous than the 15-percent tip, which could just as well be a "thanks for nothing" grat from a miffed diner who always leaves 20 percent or a sincere show of gratitude from an infrequent restaurantgoer who thinks 15 percent is still the going rate for good service. Only the tipper knows for sure.

Fortunately for servers, fewer customers today seem to fall into the latter category, which is now mostly populated by the very old and very stubborn. Surveys show the vast majority of Americans have transitioned away from the 15-percent standard which ruled the food and beverage industry for decades, with the national average tip rising to 19 percent in 2008.

Messy table. Photo: Jason Rosenberg, flickr

Hanna Raskin's first waitressing job was at a small Greek diner in Michigan. In the 15 years since, she's worked at a chop suey joint in Mississippi, an exclusive Arizonan country club, a vegetarian eatery and an Irish pub. She currently picks up odd shifts at a seafood eatery in the North Carolina mountains, where she cracks crab legs for helpless tourists. This is the tenth in a series of posts.

As a server, I should have boundless patience with my fellow overworked, undertipped brethren. But as anyone who's dined out with servers knows, food industry pros are often the harshest critics of front-of-the-house shenanigans.

Since servers know how restaurants work, they know exactly who to blame for the mishaps that spoil their eating-out experience. The French onion soup's taking too long? That's so not the fault of the server (many of whom would probably be thrilled to pack all three courses in to-go containers and send their table on its way). The halibut doesn't taste good? That's likely the reason the server skips the employee meal.

Diners should never discount their tips for things beyond the server's control: A corked bottle of wine, too long of a wait at the host stand and dirty bathrooms are comment card fodder, not tip-lowering offenses. But there are certain server behaviors for which I'll almost always knock down a gratuity a few percentage points.

Some proper-looking espresso. Photo: Erin Meister

Erin Meister trains baristas for North Carolina-based Counter Culture Coffee and sporadically maintains the blog Meet the Press Pot from her home in New York City. This is the eighth in a series of tips for the caffeine-addicted.

It can seem like the only thing harder than navigating the labyrinthine menu at a coffee shop is finding one that's worth the hassle. Decoding the signals of a great café isn't always as hard as it may seem: click through for five easy things to look for when trying to determine if unfamiliar territory is the caffeinated friend or foe.

Five signs of a great café -- from silent lattes to barista interrogation -- after the jump.