I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

We have lots of wealthy folks come in.

They all sit on one side of the spectrum or the other.

They are either average tippers.

Or.

Amazing tippers.

Tonight a family came in.

Ate dinner.

Left 17%. The server was not pleased. But then chef reminded her that they don’t tip on the wine.

Yes. It’s a real thing. Many people don’t tip on the wine.

Tonight the husband paid.

If the wife pays they flip very far onto the other side of the spectrum.

Then last night.

A family who comes in every so often was in.

They eat. Are super gracious.

And their check was $600.

And they left 80%.

Yes. You read that right.

Two wealthy families.

Two different responses.

Both very nice.

Each on a different side of the spectrum.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Table 25 arrived yesterday.

We’re seated.

We’re greeted.

Drinks were served.

Then the server went over to take the order.

She gets two people in when the 14 year old orders the Wagyu tomahawk ribeye.

32 ounces.

$165.

The server looks at the mom and says, I did tell you how much that cost right?

The kid looks at the server and says, I don’t think that’s any of your business.

The mother is horrified.

She shuts it down.

But the kid gets the steak.

At the end of the meal the mother was very apologetic.

The server telling me the story said, clearly the kid thought he was a Beckham.

The thing that occurred to me was that the first time my parents spent anything close to that on me was my first car.

$200 bucks for a 71 Chevy Impala that I started with a toggle switch. I opened the trunk with a screwdriver.

It lasted four months.

I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Please.

Please.

Please.

Do not leave your FLOSS PICKS on the table after dinner.

It’s gross.

Thank you for coming to my Ted talk.

I’m an old man.

I’m stuck in my ways!

So imagine how annoyed I was when I realized someone had taken my favorite pen Thursday night.

I looked everywhere.

Asked everyone.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

And

You can imagine how excited I was when Jen walked up on Friday night and said, “is this your pen?”

And it was. It was.

So I gave her my replacement pen.

And all was well in the world.