Before I got fully involved in the journalism game, I worked at a variety of establishments.
Never have I doubted myself more than when I waited tables. I wasn’t good at it, but honestly, the etiquette of tip-giving just blew my mind. I first lifted a far-too-heavy tray in my teen years as a table busser at a Luby’s in Arrowhead Mall in Muskogee. I lasted six days there before I realized I wasn’t cut out to do that job. I wasn’t even there long enough to get out of training and join the tip pool the “real” waitresses got.
I worked at McDonald’s after that and all through high school and the beginning of college. In an effort to make more money, I went to work at Del Rancho in Tahlequah, where I did a little bit of everything. But waitressing was part of it, and for the first time, I was able to earn tips. And I barely did.
I soon learned the morning shift didn’t want me to be bubbly and the night shift didn’t want me sullen. I got called “sugar” and “sweetie” and “honey” and “hey girl” many times. Also “stupid” and “fat” a few times. What I never got called was a good waitress. And the tips certainly never reflected that. I remember wondering, after a childhood of watching “Alice” episodes: How does anyone make money waiting tables?
I was much older when I realized maybe it was the town I was working in and the places I worked, that “big city” wait staff actually made good money. All I had was my wits and charm in small-town Oklahoma. I certainly didn’t have grace — I dropped my fair share of food and drink on unsuspecting customers. I learned I could not survive on tips alone, so I usually ended up back in the kitchen, where the paycheck was more secure and I didn’t have to be “on” all the time.
At that time in my life, I didn’t have any money and my taxes were incredibly easy to do. I had no idea I was being taxed on tips. This year, for the first time, waiters were allowed to write off $25,000 in tips. It’s not quite what Trump promised in the Big, Beautiful Bill, but it’s a step in the right direction. I’m as shocked as you that it could actually help someone in a lower income tax bracket.
But it’s a ridiculous concept when you think about it. The government asks that you’re honest about how much you make in tips, and you are supposed to comply. Tips are a service-industry sliding scale of all sliding scales. Your performance is commensurate with your money. And sometimes, the people you’re serving as just jerks and don’t tip you, anyway — and you’re supposed to give some of that over to the government? When you’re making less than $3 per hour?
Yeah. The “no taxes on tips” bill is about 75 years too late, but I digress. What needs to end — as well as the taxing — is the superiority complex many customers have when it comes to wait staff. An ex of mine once had a “grading system.” As soon as a waiter “messed up,” he deducted cash from what he’d planned to give. Turns out, he was just a cheapskate.
I literally cannot imagine stiffing a waiter. I’ve had bad service, sure — but the number just went down. It wasn’t absent. When you don’t tip your waiter or waitress, you are stealing from them, in my eyes. They are giving you their time — they make far less for per-hour than their kitchen compatriots — and you are saying, “That’s not good enough.”
It’s shameful and it’s led to a lifetime of overtipping for me, especially when they go above and beyond. It’s really simple. If you can’t afford to, or don’t want to, tip, don’t eat inside. Get it to-go. I could go into tipping for to-go orders, but that’s another column for another day.
But chances are, someone in your family or someone you love will wait tables some day. Do you want them to get food thrown at them, stiffed or abused? I doubt it.
Sarah Hart is a news editor for ESPN. A Muskogee native, she is a former news editor for the Tahlequah Daily Press.