The summer after I graduated from college, I moved back to my hometown for a few months to plan my upcoming wedding. I got a job as a waitress at the local restaurant, not only to earn some much-needed cash, but to gain some experience as a server. I knew that once I headed to NYC after the wedding, I'd probably do my share of waiting tables as I pursued my career in theater.
Boy, did I suck at being a server. No, really, I mean it. I was terrible. I am a horrible multi-tasker, so I'd run literal laps around the restaurant as I tried to remember to bring each requested item to each separate table. If the host sat guests at more than three of my tables at a time, I'd usually panic, hyperventilate, and/or cry.
When I finally DID move to NYC that Fall, I humbly admitted my server-challenged abilities, and decided to go the temporary secretary route instead. The restaurant world breathed a collective sigh of relief.
Some good did come of my short-lived waitressing experience, however. I have an enormous respect for those who do this job well, and I tip generously. Actually, I've always been a pretty big tipper (if I do say so myself!), even when the service is sub-par. I may leave a little less, but I know what it's like to hold a job where your salary is low because your employer knows your pay will be supplemented by gratuities.
When I receive service that is poor, I try to understand that maybe the waitress (or hairdresser or nail tech) is just having a bad day, and I still leave something. Maybe the customer before me was abusive and surly, or maybe she's just exhausted because this is her second job and she was up all night with a crying baby who refused to be consoled. Or maybe he's a college student who forgot to put a lemon in my Diet Coke like I requested because he's distracted by the fact that he has a really important final tomorrow.
Anyway, imagine my surprise when at 47 years old, I am once again working for tips! That's right, in my current position as a ghost tour guide, my paycheck is pretty meager, because my employer knows I will receive tips each night. There is even a portion at the beginning of the script I recite each evening which refers to this. That's where I remind my guests that "gratuities would be greatly appreciated" at the end of the evening.
Because of this, I work very hard at making my tours special for each of my guests. I memorized, word for word, ten (TEN!) pages of an intricate script, involving dates and historical facts. I try to add my personal flair to the stories (without changing the facts) so that they are sure to be entertaining. I take my guests to the best places to capture "orbs" with their cameras, and I wildly "ooh" and "ahh" when said orbs actually appear on their digital screens. As we walk from location to location, I ask them about where they're from and what they do for a living. I listen with wide eyes and gasps of fright as they tell me about their ghostly encounters experienced in their own homes and places of business.
A few nights ago, I had a effervescent woman on my tour who gasped and showed me her "goose bumps" after each story I presented. When we arrived at the last location, she asked me to go slow because she was so sorry the tour was coming to an end. As I finished, she shook my hand, thanked me for a wonderful time, and left. Without leaving me a tip.
This happens time and time again, actually. People smile and laugh through the majority of the evening, tell me they had a delightful time, and then refuse to tip me. They watch as others press some folded bills into my hand, watch as I tell them how much I appreciate it, then turn and walk away without giving me a second thought. Now, I must tell you, I'm not a single mother who desperately needs this cash to put food on the table. My income is just a supplement to what my husband makes. But still, it stings.
My husband has worked in every capacity of the restaurant business for the majority of his adult life. He told me that this is just how it is when you're working for tips. He told me that it often happened when he used to tend bar, putting himself through college. He said he'd take special care of his customers. He'd prepare the drinks just the way they liked, engage in witty conversation, and provide excellent, prompt service. Then, they'd get up and head for the exit, leaving no tip at all. He told me he learned not to take it personally, and that I shouldn't either. But I do.
So, what's your theory regarding gratuities? Are you a generous tipper? Have you ever worked in the service industry? If so, how did you get past the sting of being "stiffed?" I'd really love to hear it.
In the meantime, I hope that the next time you leave the table, the salon chair, the pedicure foot bath, or the wonderfully informative, tremendously entertaining ghost tour, you'll think about us poor folk who tried to go the extra mile for you, to make your experience special. And I hope you'll show your appreciation with a little monetary token of thanks! Also,
Thanks for Reading!!
Boy, did I suck at being a server. No, really, I mean it. I was terrible. I am a horrible multi-tasker, so I'd run literal laps around the restaurant as I tried to remember to bring each requested item to each separate table. If the host sat guests at more than three of my tables at a time, I'd usually panic, hyperventilate, and/or cry.
When I finally DID move to NYC that Fall, I humbly admitted my server-challenged abilities, and decided to go the temporary secretary route instead. The restaurant world breathed a collective sigh of relief.
Some good did come of my short-lived waitressing experience, however. I have an enormous respect for those who do this job well, and I tip generously. Actually, I've always been a pretty big tipper (if I do say so myself!), even when the service is sub-par. I may leave a little less, but I know what it's like to hold a job where your salary is low because your employer knows your pay will be supplemented by gratuities.
When I receive service that is poor, I try to understand that maybe the waitress (or hairdresser or nail tech) is just having a bad day, and I still leave something. Maybe the customer before me was abusive and surly, or maybe she's just exhausted because this is her second job and she was up all night with a crying baby who refused to be consoled. Or maybe he's a college student who forgot to put a lemon in my Diet Coke like I requested because he's distracted by the fact that he has a really important final tomorrow.
Anyway, imagine my surprise when at 47 years old, I am once again working for tips! That's right, in my current position as a ghost tour guide, my paycheck is pretty meager, because my employer knows I will receive tips each night. There is even a portion at the beginning of the script I recite each evening which refers to this. That's where I remind my guests that "gratuities would be greatly appreciated" at the end of the evening.
Because of this, I work very hard at making my tours special for each of my guests. I memorized, word for word, ten (TEN!) pages of an intricate script, involving dates and historical facts. I try to add my personal flair to the stories (without changing the facts) so that they are sure to be entertaining. I take my guests to the best places to capture "orbs" with their cameras, and I wildly "ooh" and "ahh" when said orbs actually appear on their digital screens. As we walk from location to location, I ask them about where they're from and what they do for a living. I listen with wide eyes and gasps of fright as they tell me about their ghostly encounters experienced in their own homes and places of business.
A few nights ago, I had a effervescent woman on my tour who gasped and showed me her "goose bumps" after each story I presented. When we arrived at the last location, she asked me to go slow because she was so sorry the tour was coming to an end. As I finished, she shook my hand, thanked me for a wonderful time, and left. Without leaving me a tip.
This happens time and time again, actually. People smile and laugh through the majority of the evening, tell me they had a delightful time, and then refuse to tip me. They watch as others press some folded bills into my hand, watch as I tell them how much I appreciate it, then turn and walk away without giving me a second thought. Now, I must tell you, I'm not a single mother who desperately needs this cash to put food on the table. My income is just a supplement to what my husband makes. But still, it stings.
My husband has worked in every capacity of the restaurant business for the majority of his adult life. He told me that this is just how it is when you're working for tips. He told me that it often happened when he used to tend bar, putting himself through college. He said he'd take special care of his customers. He'd prepare the drinks just the way they liked, engage in witty conversation, and provide excellent, prompt service. Then, they'd get up and head for the exit, leaving no tip at all. He told me he learned not to take it personally, and that I shouldn't either. But I do.
So, what's your theory regarding gratuities? Are you a generous tipper? Have you ever worked in the service industry? If so, how did you get past the sting of being "stiffed?" I'd really love to hear it.
In the meantime, I hope that the next time you leave the table, the salon chair, the pedicure foot bath, or the wonderfully informative, tremendously entertaining ghost tour, you'll think about us poor folk who tried to go the extra mile for you, to make your experience special. And I hope you'll show your appreciation with a little monetary token of thanks! Also,
Thanks for Reading!!
