Tipping After the Meal: Have a Little Understanding

I used to work part-time on the wait staff at a fine dining establishment. It was a way to earn a little money and polish my people skills - as the saying goes, service with a smile. Having hung up my apron (with no intention of ever wearing it or its likeness again), I can easily say that I look at restaurant servers with a much different attitude now. When I'm dining somewhere, I have empathy toward the server. It's a long, hot night of multi-tasking, and the low hourly pay rate banks on good tips. Assuming that the server makes a genuine effort in attitude, interaction, and timing, then that server deserves 20%.

Behind the scenes at my former job, and I'm guessing at just about any restaurant's dumpster-side gossip mill, a 15% tip was the sign of a cheapskate; 20% was expected. Keep the alcohol flowing on a balmy summer evening, and the sky was the limit.

Most diners do not realize all of the variables that factor into their dining experience. Watching a restaurant staff work to control those factors while bending to the diner's every need is an impressive sight.

If the diner arrives at peak hours, when the dining room is at maximum capacity and the kitchen is wading through an onslaught of orders, the likelihood that said diner will eat exactly what he wants exactly when he wants it is unlikely. It is amazing how many diners seem to be oblivious to this fact.

The wishy-washy diner is the dreaded diner. "I think I'll get the salmon....no wait, the halibut!" As the server outwardly smiles over the diner's indecisiveness, internally, the server is praying that the diner does not change his mind once the table's order has been submitted to the kitchen. Once the order has been fired, any changes reflect poorly on the server's job skills.

Worse yet, after a few glasses of cab and a whiskey or two, the diner may believe that he had in fact ordered steak. As the server slides the hot plate of halibut and asparagus between knife and fork, the tipsy diner remarks, "No, no. I wanted prime rib." For confirmation, he turns to his equally tipsy wife, who has recoiled into a silent state. She simply nods. Nothing is more conspicuous than a server walking back to the kitchen with an entrée. The two questions posed by such an action - why is the entrée being returned, and who is to blame for its return?

The server is at the mercy of his or her surroundings - the rest of the wait staff, the diners, and the kitchen. Trays are large and unwieldy; accidents happen. Friday and Saturday nights are busy; sometimes patience is the best dinner guest. The server wants the diner to have a relaxed, enjoyable evening, for he or she will be reprimanded if anything less occurs. So next time you dine out, have some sympathy when you're calculating the total tab on your meal. If the effort was genuine, tip 20%.