things come in pairs...

or threes?

Coincidence is an ephemeral thing. After writing the previous post with Louis XIII cognac, it was a surprise to see an article in the Chicago Sun-Times entitled At the tipping point that is about tipping in restaurants. More specifically, it's about the problem of getting stiffed by customers. The phrase getting stiffed deals with clients who leave less than a 15% tip - susbstantially less.

Traditionally, in the United States, it is customary to leave at least a 15% tip for service. The article mentions that the current average is now 17.7%. There is controversy as to whether people actually tip for service or just because the waitperson looks good, "wears a flower," etc. That's neither here nor there. In my mind, I tip for service, but I worked in the restaurant business for 8-10 years. I have a different perspective. Waitpersons do not make minimum wage. Like it or not, it is part of the law. Waitstaff relies on tips to survive.

The article, along with my previous post, reminded me of an incident that happened while I worked at one of the top restaurants in Chicago. I was assistant manager at the time [the owner was the actual manager]. The average cost per person was around $40 per person and this was in the 1980's. It was a top fine dining restaurant.

We dealt with many types of customers, mostly people who were thoroughly happy with the food and service. From time to time, however, there were people who were unhappy, but it was very infrequent. Very.

On this one ocassion, we served a large group (8 people) a long, service-intense dinner. It included cocktails, champagne, appetizers, salads, entrees, desserts, multiple wines by course, and, yes, glasses of Louis XIII. They gushed not only about the food but also about the service. The check came to around $1,500.00. That's around $185.00 per person! They were celebrating a multi-million dollar deal they had just completed.

The tip at the customary 15% should have been around $225.00. The host left $75.00. The waitstaff, including the busboys, were furious. They had worked extra hard for this party. They knew a great party from past experience. The diners also sat around for an additional 30 minutes keeping the restaurant open beyond closing time making the staff even madder as time wore on.

I was confronted by two issues as on-site manager/maitre d' that night: 1) the staff's anger and 2) what the owner was going to say [not to mention going nuclear] when he saw a tip that was barely 5%. He was going to want to know what was wrong with the service; who screwed up; who needed to be fired.... He was known for the best service in the city. I had to appease the staff and him.

As the party left, I asked the host if everything was all right. He continued to gush on how everything was near perfect. I broached the subject of the gratuity from the standpoint that when Jimmy saw the tip he was going to be all over us about the service demanding to know what went wrong. He assured me everything was perfect.

At this point his wife and partner piped up and said, chuckling almost in unison, "He doesn't believe in tipping. He's Australian."

The host explained how they were correct. He didn't believe in tipping. He believed that the restaurant should pay the waitstaff from it's profits. He tried to go into this long diatribe about his beliefs. The staff wasn't interested in his beliefs and neither was I. I cut him off almost immediately.

I explained to him that the law allowed this procedure to happen and it was the way things were. He said he didn't care. I did keep my cool, and I'm not sure if I embarassed him in front of his wife and staff, but at this point I didn't care and had nothing left to loose. I kept my cool and explained how we all had rent, mortgages, bills, insurance, car payments, etc. He didn't care.

I thanked him for coming and enjoying himself and, to the staff's delight, asked him never to come back again.

When I explained this to Jimmy the next morning, he accepted it wholeheartedly. He had seen the check and was ready to go ballistic the minute I walked in the door. Not only did he accept it, he went to the telephone, called the gentleman up [we had the phone number from the reservation], explained the exact same things that I had said to him AND asked him never to come back to the restaurant again. There was never any fallout from this that I ever heard. The staff was pleased with what happened even though they were out the money. AND the man never came back.

I admit I'm one of the over-tippers the article in the Sun-Times talks about. I know what waitstaff has to go through. I am also one of the most critical diners when it comes to service because of this. I know good service and I do hold that you pay for it. On the other side of the coin, I also will not pay for bad service. I will leave less that 15% if it warrants, but I do one other thing if I really like the food and will return. I let the management or at least the host/hostess know. Word of mouth can really kill a place and bad service is always part of the gossip. I think the restaurant needs to know if people are not pleased before customers stop coming to it. It's the same with any business.

I don't know if the dinner host learned anything that night but I did. It is important that you confront the truth. This may be a silly incident to think about something that may be this monumental. It is when you least expect it that this type of thing happens. They are sometimes life-altering and sometimes thought provoking.

I am living in a world right now that avoids the truth at all costs, blames everyone else for its state, cares little about others, bases itself on absolutes that are inflexible, does not take other's beliefs into consideration, and lacks understanding & compassion.

I am a child of the hippie-generation. I am against war, against discrimination, against bigotry, against lowering human dignity one iota. I believe in

"What a piece of work is man..."
How noble in reason
How infinite in faculties
In form and moving
How express and admirable.
In action, how like an angel
In apprehension how like a god
The beauty of the world
The paragon of animals

I have of late
but wherefore I know not
lost all my mirth.
This goodly frame
The earth
seems to me a sterile promontory

This most excellent canopy
The air-- Look you!
This brave o'erhanging firmament
This majestical roof
Fretted with golden fire.
Why it appears no other thing to me
Than a foul and pestilent congregation
of vapors.

What A Piece Of Work Is Man
How noble in reason*

how noble in reason?

just asking...

*Lyrics by James Rado & Gerome Ragni, music by Galt MacDermot, HAiR: The American Tribal Love-Rock Musical; William Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act I Scene 2

[p.s. I realize I'm in a funk right now. I have been having a couple of physical problems and have recently made a major decision that has put me into the start of the grieving process. This too shall pass. To quote my favorite Hopi Indian adage again, When hope is gone life is over. There is always hope...]