Fortunately, this didn’t happen to me, but I did witness it. It was late night, maybe 1:30-2:00 am in Anaheim, California, and I’m with a bunch of friends from Northern California. We decide, hey, we’re hungry. What’s a good place to go that’s open that late at night? Well, we chose a chain restaurant that specializes in down-home American food.
When we got there, it was pretty dead – only one section was open, with one waitress who was looking extremely tired and burdened. But she was an absolute joy, still friendly and very service-oriented. We loved her. We weren’t the only people in her section though – there was another group. We were about 6 people – they were about 6 people. They were much louder than we were – nothing terrible, but kind of raucous. Clearly we could tell that the waitress had been dealing with them for a while – it was in her eyes.
Finally, midway through our meal, they left – all but one of them – after leaving the money on the table. When the waitress came back to pick up the check, she noticed immediately that they had left no tip. The one remaining man noticed too. His words were: “Oh, hell, they didn’t leave a tip? Hold on.” And he pulled a thick wad of cash out of his pocket, carefully peeled off a bill, and handed it to the waitress. “There ya go,” he said, and left. They’d clearly had a large meal – plenty of used plates on the table. After he left, the waitress just looked crushed, so we asked what was wrong.
“He tipped me… a dollar,” she said, and that got one of my friends so mad he was ready to go out there and beat the living daylights out of that party. But we intervened and, as we left, we doubled our tip to compensate for the piss-poor tipping and stingy nature of that party.