I have a few conflict-of-interest disclosures to get off my chest before wading into this mess:
- My daughter Larissa spent many years and countless long, hard hours of her young life waiting tables while attending university.
- I am a generous tipper for good service. See #1 for the reason why.
- When I worked in P.R. for an international Christian aid organization years ago, I used to cringe in embarrassment on the very rare occasions when our office went out for lunch together. Typically, I’d be one of the very few in our party who left a tip. Many of my über-devout colleagues never tipped our servers. Ever. One even openly blamed his modest wages as his excuse for stiffing the waitstaff, to which I would immediately respond with something charitable like: “Then you should be eating under the Golden Arches, you frickety-frackin’ cheapskate!”