I consider myself a pretty good tipper.
I always leave 20% or more on a restaurant check, even if the service and food were not as expected.
When I valet my car, it’s always a $2 bill when I drop it off, and a $2 bill when I pick it up. The $2 bills are always new and in sequential order – call me pretentious if you must.
One night at dinner after being presented with our separate checks, my dining companion asked, “What are you leaving her?” I replied with the amount and she said, “Good for you, but I’m not paying her mortgage.”
For some, what they tip is as big a secret as their “real” age. You know the kind… the bill comes in the leatherette check holder and they quickly move it out of sight, pull it close to their chest, bow their head and silently fill in the amount before quickly snapping the cover shut. Sometimes these individuals may break out the tip calculator to ensure that they are leaving a perfect percentage.
Others like to tip with great flamboyancy, even if it’s only a mere 10%. They make an Academy Award production out of the event, going so far as to personally hand the check holder to the server even if he or she is halfway across the restaurant taking another order.
Like most, I take the check, add the 20%, sign and leave.
Last evening, I dined with a group of friends at Matteo’s in Boca Raton. This sauce house offers valet parking, and as usual, I gave the valet a $2 bill when I dropped off my car. After a few Martini’s, veal and peppers, pasta and sorbet, I gave the valet the ticket for my car. When it was brought around, I handed the tip-monger the $2 bill and he said, “It’s customary to tip two-dollars sir.”
After a few seconds of wondering where he got a set of testicles that big, I cockily replied, “What do you think I just gave you.” He looked at the $2 bill, mumbled, “Oh” and without an apology or a “have a good night,” he closed the door and I went on my way.
For the next 20 minutes I stewed like a veal shank being prepared for Osso Buco.
For those same 20 minutes the people in my car wanted to get out and walk home.
Since when did it become “customary” to ask for a specific tip amount?
I could toss the term “extortion” around, but that may seem a little too dramatic.
This turned out to be a restaurant I would frequent more often, however, this first impression put a bad taste in my mouth. Bad enough that I don’t want to return.
Chalk this up as a lesson for all business owners. No matter which person – whether it be the valet guy, the hostess, the server, the bartender or the guy or gal answering the phone – they are an extension of YOUR business. They should always have to live up to the high standards you set in your establishment. In this case, this guy ruined it for me and the other people in my party which is unfortunate.
There are other good Italian restaurants in Boca Raton that are on par with Matteo’s and their valet doesn’t insult you at the end of the night.