Tip

To tip, or not to tip, that is the question.  It never used to be the question.  For me.  

Because I didn't hire the roofer, the plumber, the installer.  I didn't pay the restaurant bill.  I didn't gift the service worker.   I didn't think about tips. 

But now I think about tips.  And who to tip, and what to tip and how to tip.  Every screen, every receipt, every we-do-accept-tips notice asks me to tip.  It's a big, confusing question.  For me.  

A couple of times, my ashamed face gave me away when our son asked if I tipped.   Uh... no.  Whoops.

A couple of more recent times, my proud face gave me away when he asked if I tipped.  Of course!

Tipping is the question.  I go to bed thinking about tips.  How much is 10%?  How much is %20?  How much is the right %?   Do I tip a cup of black coffee?  Isn't he paid for that?  Do I tip a bid that came in on target?  Didn't we agree on that?  Do I tip so no one sees me select "skip" on the screen?  Do they care about that?

Should it be a matter of quality service?  Should it be a matter of extended effort?  Should it be a matter of expectation?  Should it be a matter of budget?  Should it be a matter of generosity?  Should it be a matter of prayer?

I need my tipper.  But here I am trying to answer the question about...  tipping.