Because Apparently, Existing in Public Now Comes With a Suggested Gratuity.
I have a question.
When exactly did tipping become a competitive sport?
Because I seem to remember a simpler time when you went to a restaurant, someone brought you food, checked on you, refilled your coffee, and you left a tip to show your appreciation.
It was a lovely arrangement.
Everyone understood it.
Then somewhere along the way, someone decided that apparently every financial transaction in North America should end with a request for additional money.
And frankly, I’m starting to feel like I should be carrying a tip jar around myself.
Congratulations! You Handed Me a Muffin!
The other day, I imagined walking into a coffee shop.
Nothing fancy.
Just a coffee and a muffin.
The person behind the counter takes my order, turns around, picks up a muffin, puts it in a bag and hands it to me.
A transaction that takes approximately fourteen seconds.
Then comes the payment machine.
WOULD YOU LIKE TO LEAVE A TIP?
15%
20%
25%
EXCUSE ME?
For what?
Was the muffin rescued from a burning building?
Did someone personally climb a mountain to harvest the blueberries?
Was there an emotional support session involved that I somehow missed?
You picked up a muffin.
I appreciate it.
Truly.
But I also picked up my car keys this morning, and nobody offered me 20 percent.
The Payment Machine Has Become a Guilt-Trip Machine
And have you noticed how they turn that little machine around?
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Like they’re presenting evidence in a courtroom.
Then they stand there.
Watching.
While you decide whether you’re a generous human being or a heartless monster who doesn’t believe in rewarding muffin transportation.
You look at the screen.
You look at them.
They look at you.
Suddenly, you’re involved in a psychological standoff over a $4.50 coffee.
And the worst part?
Sometimes you tip just to make the awkwardness stop.
Congratulations, payment machine.
You win.
Apparently, 15 Percent Is Now an Insult
Remember when 10 or 15 percent was considered a decent tip?
Now some machines start at 18 percent.
Then 20.
Then 25.
I’ve seen suggestions that make me wonder whether I’m paying for my lunch or making a down payment on the building.
And the little NO TIP option?
Oh, they hide that one.
It’s usually in tiny letters at the bottom of the screen, somewhere between “Other Options” and “Admit You’re a Terrible Person.”
You have to tap through three menus, answer a security question and sacrifice a small amount of dignity just to pay the actual price.
Self-Service, Full-Service Tipping
This is the part that really gets me.
I’m doing the work.
I walk into a place.
I find what I want.
I carry it to the counter.
Sometimes I even scan it myself.
Then the machine asks if I’d like to leave a tip.
For whom?
ME?
Because I absolutely deserve one.
I located the product.
I transported it.
I operated the equipment.
And I managed to do all of that without requiring assistance.
Quite frankly, I think I should receive an employee discount and an invitation to the Christmas party.
I’m Not Against Tipping
Before anyone comes after me with a pitchfork and a debit machine, let me be clear.
I believe in tipping for good service.
If someone waits on my table, makes sure everything is right, brings our food, refills drinks and puts up with customers who apparently think ketchup is a constitutional right, I’m happy to leave a tip.
Good service deserves appreciation.
And I know many people working in service jobs work incredibly hard.
This isn’t about them.
It’s about businesses that have somehow turned the simple act of accepting payment into an opportunity to ask for more.
There’s a difference between rewarding service and being guilted into paying extra because a touchscreen told you to.
Next They’ll Be Asking for Tips Everywhere
At this rate, I fully expect the following conversations in the near future.
At the gas station:
“Would you like to leave a tip?”
For what? The pump standing there?
At the grocery store:
“Would you like to leave a tip?”
Certainly. Here’s one: Open more cash registers.
At the doctor’s office:
“Your appointment is complete. Would you like to add 20 percent?”
No, but I would like to know why I waited 45 minutes.
At home:
My husband: “What’s for dinner?”
Me: “That depends. Would you like to leave a tip?”
Suggested amounts: 18%, 20%, or a weekend away.
Suddenly, I can see the advantages of this system.
Maybe We Should All Start Asking
I’ve decided that if tipping continues to spread, I’m getting involved.
I held the door open for someone today.
That’ll be $2.
I returned my shopping cart.
Suggested gratuity: 18 percent.
I answered a question at work that someone could have Googled.
25 percent. Minimum.
I listened to someone tell me a story that took fifteen minutes and had absolutely no point.
That’s premium service.
30 percent, plus an emotional inconvenience fee.
And if I manage to get through an entire day without rolling my eyes at someone?
Well, that’s practically a miracle.
Cash tips appreciated.
Final Thoughts from Arctic Blonde
I don’t mind paying for what I buy.
I don’t mind tipping people who provide good service.
What I do mind is feeling like every time I leave my house, someone is waiting to turn a payment machine toward me and ask for a little something extra.
We’ve reached the point where I wouldn’t be surprised if I opened my front door tomorrow and found a machine asking:
THANK YOU FOR BREATHING TODAY!
Would you like to leave a tip?
18% — Satisfactory Breathing
20% — Excellent Breathing
25% — Outstanding Lung Performance
Other Amount
And somewhere, hidden in microscopic letters…
“No Tip.”
Which, of course, I’ll select.
Because until someone starts bringing me fresh oxygen on a silver platter, I think I’ll continue breathing for free.
Stay fabulous, stay sarcastic, and remember:
If you see me standing in front of a payment machine looking confused, I’m not having trouble with technology.
I’m just trying to find the button that lets me keep my own money.
— Arctic Blonde Society ❤️
