Europeans who come to this country for a visit are often amazed. The things that make the list of their amazement are many, and of course vary from visitor to visitor. But certain aspects of the good old US of A seem to make every list.
The first thing that people from across the pond note is the sheer vastness of the size of our country. They comment that driving through Texas alone is like driving through eight different countries in Europe, each with its own laws and languages. Simply driving for hours and not seeing a town tends to blow their minds.
The next thing that seems to mystify foreign visitors to our shores is the level of patriotism. Maybe ‘patriotism’ isn’t the right word for it. But they feel we tend to obsess over the mere fact that we’re Americans. There are flags flying everywhere and stars and stripes displayed in patches sewn on hats or jackets, or flags on clothes, displayed in ads or on billboards in ways that just don’t make sense to them. “And then the whole singing the National Anthem before the start of every sporting event? What’s up with that? I don’t even know the words to ours, much less sing it before a sporting event!” Is not an uncommon response.
The fact that we expect ice in all of our water, soft drinks, or whatever other beverage you can think of (notable exception: beer) makes foreign visitors shake their heads. I suppose we’re just not a lukewarm beverage kind of people.
Our international guests are confused by the fact that the price something is marked in any store they go into is not the price that they actually pay. “That’s not what it says on the tag,” they comment.
“That doesn’t include the sales tax,” someone behind the counter explains.
“Why not? It should.”
“But it doesn’t. That’s just the way it is here. Tax is added after the fact.
“Why?”
“Because it’s different in every state, and in every city within that state.”
At that point they usually quit asking questions, ask for a bag of ice and go out to their Japanese rental Camry sedan that’s made in Kentucky and prepare to drive for hours without seeing another town. Only flags.
The other thing about America that baffles them is tipping. Of course, tipping used to be limited to the “little extra” you’d pay your server in a restaurant for the service they provide that goes above and beyond. Then the food service industry changed all that a long time ago when they were able to hire people for a fraction of minimum wage based on the idea that the “real money” would be earned through tips. That’s a model that seems fraught with all manner of complications, but here we are. We who live here all the time have come to accept it and deal with it within our own set of values. It makes no sense to people outside our borders, but add it to the list.
But things have changed regarding tipping the past few years. I’m sure it has something to do with the pandemic, when people who relied on tips given by people they served in person could no longer expect that income. We paid them to bring the bags of food to our cars when we pulled up and texted the number on the sign. I supported that concept, helping out and pulling together in a crisis we were all going through.
But I haven’t put a face mask on in a couple years. The pandemic is just a memory. Yet, everywhere I go, after I slide the ol’ Visa card through the slot I am asked how much of a tip I’d like to leave. The person behind the counter stares in anticipation while they wait for me to hit the right button and flip the screen back around for them to proofread. What has taken the place of the pandemic is widespread expectation to provide extra income to people who already make a decent wage and have done nothing more than perform whatever task they were hired to do.
“What does this have to do with anything even close to being automotive related?” you ask.
The comments from last week’s ‘Bermuda’ post regarding the idea of tipping my mechanic spurred continued thought. I mentioned that the idea of such a thing had never even crossed my mind. In response, Cornfield Dave elaborated eloquently on his guidelines and practices involving tipping the folks who work on his cars. I was impressed, but remained confused. I suppose I still am.
Understand, I am in no way saying that Cornfield Dave’s methodology is wrong. Yet, the sign hanging in Gary’s shop clearly states that his mechanics’ rates are $120-$150 an hour and up, depending on type of vehicle. Granted, the guy turning the wrench is not getting all of that. But he’s getting a lot more than $2.15 an hour the waitress is getting for refilling my sweet tea at the K-Bob’s.
Was I impressed and grateful for the fine work he’d performed on the Fairlane 500? Without even the smallest doubt. That’s why I gladly handed Oscar the Visa card for a sizable amount of money for the work done. Sizable. The other thing I do to show my gratitude is to tell everyone I know what an outstanding place Gary runs. “You’d be crazy not to have Gary tackle your automotive challenge,” I tell people. “He’s the best.” I went online and wrote a glowing review for others to see.
As I discussed this with Rusty Hammer at the Lucky Lady over a Lone Star longneck the other night, he said “Don’t you request tips on your blog? Same thing isn’t it?”
But, of course it isn’t. I don’t charge for the content I put on the blog. As hundreds have proven, they can access it as often as they want to, enjoy it at their own freewill, and not provide a penny to help offset the cost, much less actually support the cause. And that’s okay. That’s the deal I’ve made, at least for the time being. But if Gary had said, “Hey, buddy. No charge for anything we’ve done on the Fairlane 500. Just want you to enjoy it. However, there’s a tip jar on the counter,” you can damn well bet I’d have stuffed more cash into it than he could count in one sitting.
When I explained that position to Rusty, he just nodded his head, unconvinced. He said something about gratitude, and me being tighter than a duck’s butt. I took a little offense to that.
“So let me get this straight. Because someone I do business with does an outstanding job, I am obligated to pay whatever fee I am charged, and then should feel compelled to tip above and above that out of additional gratitude?” Rusty was ordering his second beer and acted like he hadn’t heard the question, but eventually he turned and said, “Yeah. I guess.”
“So what about the surgeon that did Buttercup’s knee replacement surgery? I mean, that guy did a hell of a lot more than change a fuel pump and make wipers work. That guy cut bone and cemented in a new artificial joint so ‘Cup can walk again. Should I have slipped him $500 for a job well done?” I thought it was a valid point, but Rusty just rolled his eyes.
“Okay, better yet. The guy who did my colonoscopy in September,” I said. “I mean, if anyone deserves a tip, it should be a guy who can knock me out, run a camera all the way up my arse till it tickles my tonsils, take pictures along the way, pull it back out, and wake me up after he’s done without me ever knowing what happened. Well, except the pictures of course.”
Rusty just looked at me. I think he was afraid I was going to show him the pictures again.
“Should I have rolled up a few Benjamins and stuck them up there before I went under, thanking him for a job well done?” I was genuinely curious at this point.
Rusty seemed to just want to move on to another topic. “Did you see the Lady Knives are undefeated in the Girl’s District Basketball so far this year?” he asked.
Hank brought the tab over, sensing things might be getting tense. I went ahead and paid the tab, even though by then Rusty had consumed three beers and I only had one. It just wasn’t worth opening a whole different can of worms on how tabs should be split.
I even left Hank a healthy tip on top of it.
Anyway, there’s a four-part series coming up this week. It starts tomorrow and runs through Thursday. It takes place in the late 50s and is very automotive intensive. The week after that is an even longer series, a full seven days. I think you might enjoy it. If so, leave a tip. The stories don’t cost you anything.
There’s been a mini-rush on CMC caps, what with the holidays being right around the corner. There’s only a handful left, and then they’ll go the way of the CMC mugs and only be found on eBay or tied up in estates. Don’t make the kids fight over the one you leave behind, get them one of their own for Christmas. If you’re wanting to get one or two to give as gifts, get your order in. Just sayin’.
In the meantime, remember what Lucinda tells folks. “Sometimes you just have to be done. Not mad. Not upset. Just done.”
Have a good week,
21 responses to “FROM THE BACK OF THE BERMUDA: Just the Tip”
To The Captain: The one on Seinfeld where “?” has back problems and figures out his wallet is too thick – I received a FREE plastic money holder, which I jokingly started using. It carries about 7 plastic cards and several green monies. (I carry extra needed paperwork in my iPhone case! Aren’t we humans resourceful.
Point being, I don’t need very much cash. Coins go in the various DD dashpockets for as needed.
Is the “captain” honorary? or what?
As we loosen ourselves from unnecessary things, how about tops? If you catch my drive?
I like the European way. It feels condescending to tip ( or be tipped to ), kind of like giving your dog a treat if he panders to you, or a noble giving coin to a peasant. Demeaning. I think it’s just a way for owners to outsource compensation – to the customer!
Well, the only thing I can add is, on one side when I was a mechanic wrenching on motorcycle for 17 years in the ’80s-’90s, there were a several repeat customers that tipped me. One guy rode a ’75 Honda chopper; pain in the ass to work on due to the chopperness of the damn thing. But when he tipped me a twenty the first time I worked on it, holy crap! Took me over an hour to make $20. You can bet any time he came in I jump to work on that bike. Twenty bucks every time.
On the other side, I will frequently tip my mechanics that work on my newer vehicles. Sometimes I bring in a 12 pack of beer and a 12 pack of soda. Sometimes it’s $20, $50, or a $100. These guys appreciate it and maybe they do a little more for me, I don’t know. But being on the other side, I know how it feels to get a tip . Maybe the difference is they aren’t expecting a tip and the shop doesn’t flip the ipad screen at me waiting for me to enter one.
My fear would be showing up with a twelve pack of Lone Star Longnecks to show gratitude and the guy who worked on my car and a buddy down ’em all before quitting time and each cut off a few fingers. Next thing I know, I’m served papers in a lawsuit for, lost wages, physical damage to the shop, along with an unspecified amount for pain and suffering. All of a sudden I’m bankrupt due to my generosity. No good deed goes unpunished.
But I see where you’re coming from and understand the other side of it.
Now I feel kind of guilty. I’ll probably get over it, but still.
Cappy, please thank Lucinda. I get it and I am trying, I am, I am, I am.
Our thanks for Lucinda knows no bounds.
I tend to fluctuate between 20% minimum and 25%. I’ve even mentioned a couple of times to servers that they should tell the manger to up the maximum default tip amount from 22% to 25%. Retail workers have a really hard time in today’s economy and the difference between 15% (the absolute minimum) and 25% is minimal to me but adds up for the minimum wage person. I suspect those of us who are involved in cars as a hobby can afford to be a little generous to those who might be driving a classic car not by choice but by necessity.
But that’s means as they say “You do you.”
I bought a cup, and a cap – but I haven’t tipped.
If this blog suddenly started charging (you know, money to receive it), I wouldn’t be here. Sorry, to all involved, but this has turned personal – pictures, sheesh!
But, everyday, Captain, I think about you as I read the blog – you have a hard job. These stories with all their twists and turns, and innuendos, and in-your-face photos, don’t just leap out of the computer. You do a great job. The problem is, is there more than just us 10 readers? That’s a shame! I hope that there’s a lot more involved for you than we know about.
Tipping! Employees! Modern AMERICA! How many of you know someone in their 20’s who doesn’t have a “real” job – or they live with Mom/Dad/Friend, even if they have a higher learning degree. And, we are suppose to help then with a Tip for handing me a burger.
The End. Oh, except, what did Lucinda mean?
There’s a lot to unpack there, Lotus. But thanks for your mug and cap purchase.
Back when I was actually ‘working’, I was assigned to our Rotterdam office several times. I really enjoyed those periods – the Dutch are a fantastic people. Their culture has evolved around international trade – something that has created a population that, for the most part, is generally accepting of varied ethnicities, religions and customs. When I was working there, I had to shift into ‘European tipping mode’… some servers were actually offended if you left a tip, especially one that would be appropriate in an American establishment.
As to tipping here in the U.S., I’m probably more apt to tip than not. Why? Because I know too many small business owners who tell me how difficult it is to hire and retain quality employees. If a server, technician, etc. gets everything right; I tend to leave a nice tip because I’d like to see that person again the next time I deal with their employer.
Not a bad philosophy. But wouldn’t it make more sense for the business owner who is having a hard time hiring workers to be sure and make sure his employees know they are valued than leaving it up to a group of fickle customers? Just sayin’.
I can’t disagree with what you’re saying; but finding and retaining GOOD workers involves a lot more than just how much they’re paid for what they do. Most business owners have to search for employees who have a reasonable work ethic, can pass a drug test, show up somewhat on time, have reliable transportation and who won’t steal from the business if they’re behind on some random payment.
The contractor I have working on my deck is down to one helper – two if he can get his forty-something son to come help. This guy has been my go-to for repairs that I can’t do myself for almost forty years. Before COVID, he usually had either two or three crews; each with its own foreman. Now, he can’t keep up with repair requests from his regular customers because he can’t find reliable people to work for him. And yes, he does advertise for workers and is willing to pay the going rates, based on experience and skill. I wish could figure out how all the folks who used to actually work for a living are getting by, but I guess it’s beyond my understanding.
I’m right there with you.
I saw a post on tipping that I started practicing. If I order my food at the counter and carry it to my table or go get my own drink I don’t tip. I also won’t tip at the car shop or dealership. I tip my restaurant servers well.
“Whomever had the glass in their grip, gets the tip.” Not a bad rule of thumb.
Capitán, what exactly is the difference between a tip and a bribe?
Asking for a friend of course.
Timing.
Speaking of ‘Timing’, mine has been slow as have been my powers of observation. I could promise to do better but promises don’t mean what they meant ten years ago, before Mayor Goodman raised their making to an art form. So, I’ll simply say that I will try harder. Until I read this week’s Bermuda blurb I didn’t realize you saw my tipping commentary of 11/3, much less that it would be further discussed.
Sorry to confuse or put a train of thought in a loop. If it helps to clarify the origins of my practices, I try to ask myself, “What would Dale Carnegie do?” and go from there. Where I end up is different every time and, I can not accurately assess the success of my process. Saint Peter will probably have some awkward questions for me someday but he’ll probably focus on ‘tithing’ before tipping is mentioned.
Always appreciate a different perspective and additional food for thought.
I personally try not to focus on the questions I might be asked when I get to heaven and instead just be grateful I arrived.
My somewhat weasel way of dealing with the tip screen at a place where folks are just doing their job (bakery counter, for example) is to pay in cash. Then, if the person has been cheerful and pleasant, I can leave a reasonable buck of two in the jar, not ten bucks for handing me my wife’s birthday cake.
But then there is the whole thing about carrying cash. Probably a topic for a whole different ‘Back of the Bermuda’.
I’m going to put it on the list.