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Thread: I left a $ 20 tip on a $ 13.20 lunch ticket

  1. #1
    Join Date
    Jul 2008
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    Alexandria VA
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    Default I left a $ 20 tip on a $ 13.20 lunch ticket

    At lunch today, I was one of only two people in a restaurant that I rarely go to, it was nearly empty inside the place. The waitress was a young woman who was super-nice and prompt. As I'm enjoying my sandwich and tea, I was thinking "How does she make a living on two tables? I bet she is struggling". Meanwhile, I'm selling furniture as fast as I can write the orders.

    So I left her a $ 20 tip and a note on the charge slip "Great service, hope things get better".

    Do the same if you have the chance, pay it forward. Help those whose jobs are hurting because of Covid. $ 20 is not a lot to me, it probably is to her.
    Duane Collie
    Straight answers from thirty years in the business.
    My Private Messages are Disabled - Please ask questions here in the forum
    I ask that you do NOT call my store with general furniture questions, that is what the forum is for

  2. #2
    Join Date
    Aug 2020
    Location
    Owensboro, KY
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    1

    Default Re: I left a $ 20 tip on a $ 13.20 lunch ticket

    Quote Originally Posted by drcollie View Post
    At lunch today, I was one of only two people in a restaurant that I rarely go to, it was nearly empty inside the place. The waitress was a young woman who was super-nice and prompt. As I'm enjoying my sandwich and tea, I was thinking "How does she make a living on two tables? I bet she is struggling". Meanwhile, I'm selling furniture as fast as I can write the orders.

    So I left her a $ 20 tip and a note on the charge slip "Great service, hope things get better".

    Do the same if you have the chance, pay it forward. Help those whose jobs are hurting because of Covid. $ 20 is not a lot to me, it probably is to her.

    Good job paying it forward! We’re living in strange times — so much suffering and so many people in need. I had something of an epiphany back in November, and because I love writing, I spent a quiet Thanksgiving morning writing about what happened to me:



    Every Sunday, we hear the words, “May God bless you with discomfort with easy answers...” In this year of covid, racial demands for justice, and political division not seen in a generation, we’ve been blessed plenty. We hear and say, “We’re all in this together,” but in recent weeks, these words have begun to ring hollow to me. The truth of the matter is that in the midst of untold suffering, I’ve had it pretty good. Being on disability, I have not been affected financially. I’ve spent more time doing what I’ve always done — sewing, cooking, reading, too much social media. I miss being with friends and family, and I especially miss making music. From time to time, I’ve fretted about running out of toilet paper. But really, for me, this has been an eight-month snow day. And so saying, “We’re all in this together” has begun to feel a bit less than honest.

    My breaking point came the day I saw the miles-long food lines on the news. How can this possibly be? How can this happen in the country I love and was taught is the greatest country on the face of the earth? How? This is intolerable! I guess God blessed me with a big helping of anger. Not the slow-boiling rage at our government’s colossal mishandling of a global pandemic or the politicization of public health or even the erosion of facts and truth itself. This was more visceral. And I knew I had to do something drastic. Congress was not going to come to the rescue, so it’s up to me. And people like me.

    My plan was simple — for every dollar I spent on food, I would give a dollar to the food pantry. I would eat less (yes, I know I need to lose weight), but by eating less, someone in need would eat more. I would have to make choices about what I was willing to do without, but I understood in that moment of white hot rage, that I had to try. I considered just writing a check and being done with it, but I didn’t want to be done with it. I wanted — needed — a daily reminder that if I am to going to be a part of this “we who are all in this together,” I have to share in the sacrifice, if only in a small way.

    Ten days into my plan, I’ve found that it is isn’t so much sacrifice as it is making deliberate choices about how I spend money on food. Do I really need that breakfast soufflé from Panera? Nope. Do I really want those wings and bread sticks I’m craving, delivery included? After an hour of internal debate....hell, yeah! I have not missed a meal. It was satisfying to take a check to church at the end of the first week, knowing that this would become a weekly routine. And just in case I needed a reminder that small acts can make a difference.....while I was at church enjoying a (socially distant) visit with the secretary, two people showed up needing food. The biggest surprise has been that the food I eat now tastes different. Better somehow. I’m not eating so mindlessly. Every bite is a reminder of how fortunate I am and a prayer for those who are not. I guess gratitude is the secret spice.

    My little experiment was born of outrage and utter frustration. I believed it would be an exercise in sacrifice. Little did I know that it would be one of the best gifts I have ever given myself. And so, on this day we are taught to set aside to be thankful, I am profoundly grateful.



    I’ve continued my experiment since the middle of November. I’ve been surprised at how easy it has been — most of the time. But most of all, I’m still amazed at how good this small has changed me. Knowing I can make a difference, and taking that leap to doing it has been one of the most rewarding experiences I’ve ever had.

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