Wednesday, June 23, 2010
I can count on one hand the times I have not left a tip. There's the time the waiter fell asleep at the wait station and someone else brought my food -- I still tipped him. Then there's the time I was ignored at the bar for 20 minutes while reading the newspaper. They must have mistaken me for a vagrant looking for shelter in a storm and sought not to embarrass me by asking if I wanted a beer. I wanted a beer. No, sadly, my decision not to tip is a perfect storm of a bad mood and stupendously bad service. Basically, I need to have just finished a rough day at work and not have eaten all day, and then the bartender must tell me the special is 'Domestic Drafts.' Then I order a Goose Island only to find that this Chicago brewery has apparently been annexed by Canada and is no longer considered a 'domestic draft. '