There comes a moment in every service industry job where one anticipates the reward for hard work.
You’ve put in the time, energy and elbow grease. Whether it is dropping off the check, retrieving the luggage, delivering the pizza, bringing the dogs, clad in knit sweaters, back to their rightful masters, setting the drink on the bar, handing over the reservations, seating the people who’ve asked you ‘How much longer?’ 10 times or dropping off the mattress to the apartment on the sixth floor with no elevator, it’s time to receive your tip.
Whatever the service industry, the intersection of work completion and expected tip arrives with much anticipation.
If you’ve ever worked in an area of service, you know what I’m talking about. The butterflies, the tension in the belly, the sweaty palms and, perhaps, even a shortness of breath.
It’s pay time! The time when Mr. Generosity or Mr. Cheapskate can make or break your night.
Over the course of my bellman escapades I’ve enjoyed both glee and pain when it comes to receiving the cashola.
The weird thing about getting stiffed or underpaid, no matter how many times I encounter it, it always hits me straight in the gut. I take it personally.
Getting a bad tip can literally turn my day from being on Cloud Nine to being the poster boy for anger. It’s as if a virus has entered my brain and I can’t stop it.
I’m not sure why I haven’t been able to overcome this. Getting stiffed or underpaid has happened many times before, but I always treat it as if it’s happening for the first time. Why? I let my mind run wild with the thought of being taken advantage of. “Who are these people who disrespect me for the service I give them?”
Hurt turns into anger. Anger turns into hate. Hate turns into a stiff body. A stiff body turns into unhappiness. Unhappiness turns into a ruined day for myself, and all those around me. I just can’t shake it.
And this is coming from a guy who is very present and reads self help books like they were maps to the Holy Grail.
At one time I even believed in the theory that karma would come after the individual who did such a thing to me. But that seemed to cheapen the purity of the word karma. It became a karma full of vengeance.
I tried to spin a positive light on the bad tip, but it all seemed to result in me looking ignorant.
Maybe the key lies in attitude.
One of my bellman cohorts once offered, “We should not expect a tip, because we are paid to do a job.”
But, I responded, “Yes we should be tipped for the over and above service. And yes, foreigners should know when they come to the U.S., that gratuities are mandatory. They are being served. One cannot live off of minimum wage.” And in truth, it is not the hotels that keep us employed, it’s the generosity of guests. None of us could live off of what the hotel pays us.
So the debate, the virus, the dilemma, the issue, the problem, the opportunity, whatever you want to call it, continues.
To all of you service industry workers out there, now is your time to SPEAK. What do you do to get over a sour tip? What’s your method of reconcilliation? Or do you not have one?