Just the Tip

So it’s been a while since the boring boorish businessman bored his boorish business into your brain, so I figured I would write about a more over-arching concept, as opposed to a mundane trivial event in my life. The concept? Tipping.

I bring this subject up because today a coworker and I brought up a brought up a Mercedes SL 550 and a Porsche 911 turbo respectively for a posh wealthy middle-aged couple (yes I could tell you were both middle-aged, despite your futile efforts to fool me otherwise).

And for those of you who don’t know don’t know what those cars look like here’s a basic idea:

First of all, this couple drove SEPARATE expensive sports cars to a hotel, only to drive SEPARATELY to the SAME PLACE for lunch. Wow.

Secondly of all, both were visibly disgruntled when asked their names. We confirm people’s names to make sure we are giving the right car to the right person. So… why the effing eff would one be bothered by that? Oh I’m so sorry to inconvenience you to make sure some asshole isn’t stealing your fucking car!!

Thirdly, neither person tipped. Not a cent. They both have money for insurance on their ridiculous automobiles, but not enough for the dude with $2.73 in his bank account*

These people are categorized as “no tipping assholes.” They belong in the same category as people who don’t make eye contact with waiters (thank you Arrested Development), people who tell homeless people to “get a job,” and people who club baby seals.

Do you want to avoid being talked about behind your back by a disgruntled valet? Here’s a nifty guide to tipping!

$1: this is a joke tip. I’m not lying. Ever seen “Big Business” with Lily Tomlin and Bette Midler? Bette Midler (a country bumpkin) tips a bellman $1 in a grandiose fashion and he looks at her like she’s crazy. See? They made a joke out of a $1 tip. $1 is literally a joke tip. $1 was a joke tip in 1988 and it’s a joke tip now. This isn’t a cocktail it’s your fucking car. Not that I’m ungrateful. People who tip $1 are still WAY above “no tipping assholes.”

$2: I appreciate the effort, I really do! But this is still a pretty shitty tip. It’s like saying “You almost did a satisfactory job.” Do you know what $1 in 1988 is worth now (more or less)? You got it! $2*.

$3: Ok, now we’re getting somewhere! This is a decent tip. If you want to know what the minimum tip you can give a valet and still be friends with him/her, this is it (kidding! I seriously appreciate any tip I’m given. This list is simply my shallow, gut reaction to tips when I receive them).

$4: This feels like a nice tip in one’s hands. It is four dollar bills! That’s kind of a handful! Four bucks usually puts a smile on my face.

$5: My go to. If I were going to valet my car and I had any money to speak of, this would be what I would tip. It’s the 20% of valet tips.

$6: Aw, lame, $2. oh wait! One of these is a 5! Sweet!

$10: Big roller! Hellz yeah!

$20: Do you want change? No? Seriously? OK!!!!

$100: Should I follow you home…?

Terms of use:

This is based on my experience as a HOTEL valet. These are tips from people who have to tip me multiple times a day. Like every time they need their car. That is why I’m happy with any tip I am given.

If you’re at a fancy restaurant, I would say $5 to $10 is probably more normal, same with the airport.

If you’re at some random public valet place, I dunno, take out three bucks and see if they even stick around for it. Those guys are used to getting stiffed. Poor guys.

ALSO:

Did you know that if a door man helps you with your bags the valet has to split his or her tip with the door man if you don’t tip him? So give us a break, tip the door man a quarter or something. Just something to keep him off our backs. Keep in mind, valets often split tips with each other, door men don’t. Door men keep every dollar they get, because there’s usually just one door man. Also door men get tips for: helping with bags, help with directions, calling a taxi (and sometimes from the taxi driver himself), any car parked on the drive, etc etc. Valets get tips for parking cars and SOMETIMES helping with bags. But that’s only if the door man isn’t around.

ALSO:

People almost always only tip on the way up. If you give any money to a valet when he or she takes your car from you, you will make that valet happy.

Hope you found this sort of weirdly helpful. And sorry I lied. I totally made post about some stupid trivial even in my day.

UPDATE!

When asked for his name, Suge Night said "gimme my FUCKIN keys!" I wasn't there but he apparently got in everyone's face and acted like a complete turd. This is also not a good way to react to a valet.

Upon telling this story to my friends, I got the same response from all of them: Who the fuck is suge night?

Food Survey

Random food surveys are a great way to earn money and get a free meal. If you actually get on an email list and do legitimate surveys you can avoid getting poisoned! Or having a terrifying experience as I did in a random mall.

My story begins in a regular old mall like any other mall in America (because all malls look the same to me. Apologies to mall architects and designers). I had an entire afternoon to waste and I had already bought what I needed, so I began wondering aimlessy when a strange woman with a clipboard crossed my path.

“Do you want to make 5 dollars?” She asked.

“…yes. Yes I do,” I replied.

“…do you want some chooocolaaatteeee…?” she asked.

“…okaaaay.”

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

“Follow me, we’re going behind the mall.”

She had a clipboard! I trust people with clipboards!

So we travelled to the back of the mall through a white maze of florescent lighting and cheap ceiling tiles. It smelled kind of stale in this place, like there was an unattended water leak somewhere or something. I have had a few moments in my life where I have had the thought “Welp, this is it. I’m about to be murdered and/or kidnapped and there’s nothing I can do about it. I really should have learned how to not trust people. Or I should have stopped following strangers out of boredom.” Despite my fears, we arrived to a room with a single table, a single chair, a pencil, a clipboard, a bell, a plate of saltines, a cup of water, a plate of what I could only assume were little chocolates and a two way mirror.

I was given instruction to eat a saltine, drink some water, try the chocolate and answer the questions attached to the clipboard.

Ok. Simple enough.

The first few questions were normal. Questions such as, “How is the texture? How is the milk flavor? How is the chocolate flavor?” etc etc. I remember the word “Flavor” freaking me out. I was clearly not eating chocolate. I was eating the most artificially constructed thing to touch planet earth.

Then the questions started getting weird. Like “Would you replace a meal with this chocolate? Would you eat this if you were feeling sad?” I began to realize that these chocolates were basically going to be marketed to girls and women with eating disorders.

I felt dirty. I instantly went back over my answers and changed them all to “NO NO NO BAD BAD NO BAD!”

Then I rang the bell.

“Did I hear you riiiiiiiiiinginginginginginging?”

I guess she was trying to be funny by trying to imitate the bell sound by repeating “ing” but it came across as very strange. And creepy. And weird. She was weird.

I ended up getting my five bucks and RUNNING out of there. I looked at the five bucks and kept feeling dirty for some reason. It was like I had just done something really wrong to obtain this money.

Then I realized I had 5 bucks I didn’t really have to work for. So I bought some candy.

I'm a productive member of society again!

So I just got a job and after 3 weeks of stupid bureaucracy (drug screening, 1-9, w-4, ss card, passport, etc. etc) I finally get to start working after a month and a half of unemployment.

Just kidding if any employers are reading this! I’m actually looking forward to my new job! I will get to drive the fanciest of cars!

This most recent job search took me down memory lane and made me think about all the jobs I have had in my short life.

I shall start with my very first job: Shitty Ice cream shop

Length of employment: an hour and a half.

My very first job was at fifteen at some ice cream shop that had replaced Baskin Robins. It was by far one of the most terrifying hours of my life. Upon walking in I was greeted by a crotchety old woman and a 16 year old boy with a ponytail and a hat. The first thing the crotchety old woman (who will henceforth be referred to as “COW”) said to me in her unbearably abrasive voice was “You got a hat? You’ll need a hat.” So we went to the back of the shop (which smelled like feet and decay) to the “spare hat area.” Fuckin’ gross. There are so many reasons I don’t want to put someone else’s hat on my head, and I don’t feel the need to justify that stance. It’s totally self-explanatory. Anyway, everything the COW said her little ponytail parrot would repeat in a smug fashion. It was really strange. As I surveyed the scene I realized that they had a weird relationship.

Yup. She fed him strawberries. It was gross. Like creepy gross. Creepy gross enough for me to leave then and there and never come back. “I’ll call you if I need you” said the COW (now CREEPY old woman). God forbid.

My parents got pissed at me for not having follow through, but I said “SHE FED HIM STRAWBERRIES!” and they pretty much instantly got it.

Job #2: Janitor at my High School

Length of employment: A year

This job was the best. No shit. Best job I ever had. I got to nap on the job, chill out with the other maintenance people, talk shit about our superiors. The. Best. Job. Ever. Period.

Job #3: Pizza Place

Length of employment: Summer

This was my first “Summer Job” that I only had for 3 months. This was by far the luckiest I have ever been. I came in and was like “I don’t have any waiting experience, I’m 18 and I’m in college all the way across the country.” “OK,” said the awesome manager, “you’re hired!”

Big mistake on the manager’s part. I was literally the worst waiter ever. I just can’t juggle that many things in my head at once. Maybe with some practice I could get it, but there was no time for practice. Also we did rotation which I could never keep up with. When we did sections I was fine, but rotation kicked my ass. There was one moment in which I asked a person if he was ready for his check and he clearly hadn’t gotten his food yet. Yup. I was that bad.

Enough about that.

Job #3: Event Scheduling

Length of Employment: 2 and a half years!

By far the longest I have ever been employed. It was fun. I pretty much avoided all responsibility I could so I could never be blamed for anything. It was funny, the less responsible people got to work alone on the weekends. Because the less responsible people just did set ups! No scheduling! BWAHAHA! So yeah. Awesome job. One of my bosses was exactly like Lumberg from “Office Space,” but I didn’t have to interact with that one too often. It’s kind of funny that I have the least to say about the jobs I had the longest. Whatever.

Job #4: Peets Coffee

Length of employment: Summer

Summer job #2! This one happened more by the book. I went in to a Peets close by my house blah blah blah got referred to one far away from my house blah blah blah got hired. Now a coffee shop was way more up my alley than a restaurant. You need to keep like one thing in your head at a time at a coffee shop. It’s rull easy. However, coffee snobs are the WORST!

For Instance:

This woman came in and ordered a large mocha non-fat (non-fat mocha? Yeah that’ll melt off the pounds fatty). All in all, not an unusual drink, but whatever, she was rude so I shall make fun of it. Anywhey, she gets the mocha and speaks with her mouth muffled by fat cheeks “I ordered an iced mocha!” No, no she didn’t. But we all had to pretend she did, so the barista dumped her hot mocha in some ice and said “If it’s not delicious I’ll re-make it for you!” It wasn’t delicious. Legitimately, dumping a hot drink in to ice will water it down and make it nasty. Fine, just ask him to re-make it.

But noooo, she instead spits it on the floor and shouts “This is disgusting!” To which the barista replied “I’ll re-make it for you then.” She says, “I guess I’m just used to starbucks.”

Pause.

She said this with the tone of “Oh you know that little place on the corner? Only me and a few friends know about it.” What a dummy.

Unpause.

To which the barista replied “Then I will DEFINITELY re-make it for you!” “Good,” said the lady, “cuz ya failed the first time!”

Rude.

Unneccesary and rude.

Naturally we all talked shit about her veerrryy loudly for the next five minutes until a young man (who had seen the scene transpire) comes up and very meekly says “I’ll have a small, hot mocha.”

We gave him the drink for free.

Thus ends my employment history. I am now less of a leech than I was before. Awesome.