What your 8% tip says to my boss

I love my job. I wait for my two shifts a week, and my little foray into the grown up world of employment. I love waiting on tables, as silly as that might sound. It's fun, it's active, and I get to socialize with a crazy amount of people in a pretty limited amount of time.

Personally, *I* don't mind how people tip. (Of course, *I* am not the average server.) I'm good, I know it, and whatever tip you give me is the most you would ever give. I would rather have a 12% table, than an empty table making zero percent. Of course, I would also rather have the table that's going to leave me 25%, as well.

The industry standard for average service right now is 18-20%. Sorry to break it to you in the cheap seats, but there it is. Personally, whatever you leave me, we're good. That's what you wanted to give me, and I'm happy you came in.

However, there is the matter of the credit card slip. It's the kryptonite in my happy go lucky work philosophy. It's the note that you just handed to my boss that says I suck. You see, my company holds me to the industry standard of 20%. Yes, they use those credit card slips to judge how well we take care of you. You had a good time. I know it, because you and laughed a lot, you had everything you asked for as fast as I could possibly acquire it, and then you said so on the way out the door. This is all great. And then you handed my boss a note that says I'm the worst server in the world. I know most people don't think like that, but there it is.

Here's your fix- either tip the industry standard, or carry a couple bucks in cash to give your server. Unless they really did suck, and then go ahead and slip in that permanently documented poor tip. They deserve it.