Tip Anxiety

The other night I discovered that you can order pizza ONLINE!  Since I have a bit of phone anxiety (I’ll post about that another time), ordering a pizza online is just beyond fabulous.

Since Tate and I rarely carry cash, I chose the option on the screen where you can pay by debit card (also beyond fabulous), but! there is the part that asks if you want to add a tip, and yet another one of my silly anxiety rears it’s ugly head.

Tip anxiety! (dunh, dunh, duuuuuhhhhhh)

I want to tip what’s acceptable.  I hear that you give 15% if service is average, 20% or more if you receive excellent service.  My stomach gets all fluttery just thinking about how this applies to the pizza man especially when you’re ordering online!  What if the driver sees that I’ve already tipped and thinks that it’s lousy and decides to hock a giant loogie on my pepperoni, mushroom, and black olive pizza?!  Or!  What if they take forever and a day to deliver the pizza, then I’m screwed in doling out the proper punishment of a crappy tip because I ALREADY PAID THE TIP! 

(By the way, even if they did deliver the pizza hours after I ordered, I probably wouldn’t give the driver a crappy tip because he might remember us the next time we ordered and somehow get his revenge on my pizza!)

Oh the TIP ANXIETY.  Stomach pains!

This is also a problem at carry-out/fast foodish type restaurants.  One of my most favorite places on Earth is Sonic.  If you’re not familiar with Sonic, it’s a drive-in style fast food restaurant where your food is brought to you by a carhop.  As I sit waiting for my food to arrive, my palms start to sweat and I feel a lump in my throat and my stomach starts to gurgle.  Do I tip?  If so, how much?  And why should I tip, they’re just delivering the food!  But if I don’t tip…I don’t want to EVEN THINK of the consequences.  Also, tip jars at places where you order from the counter boggle my mind.  I don’t think they should get a tip simply for ringing up my order and putting my food on a tray.  Again though, I worry that if I don’t tip they’ll eventually get their revenge.

Tip anxiety also struck last week when I got my hair all done up purdy like.  I got the bill, I saw the amount, I couldn’t breathe, just trying to quickly do the math in my head.  I know how to figure a tip, but whenever I’m put on the spot and the perky cashier is standing there waiting for me, politely smiling, as I stare, dumbfounded, at this little receipt as if I’ve never seen those new symbols–numbers!–before.  I’m completely embarrassed to admit this, please don’t tell ANYONE, but I once left a $20 tip for my hair stylist in Knoxville because I did the math WRONG.  I was so nervous, I didn’t even realize how ridiculous $20 was for A TIP until I was in the car and suddenly regained my ability to figure a tip in my head.

There are instances too numerous to count where my tip anxiety has or could come into play.  I’d never use a skycap or bellhop to help with luggage because of that awkward moment after they’ve lugged all your bags and then they just stand there waiting for a tip.  Thank goodness I don’t live in a city where taxi cabs are a primary means of transportation, I couldn’t bear to have to figure a tip!  Have you ever been someplace where there is someone in the bathroom handing out towels for you to dry your hands after you used the restroom!  That is THE WORST.  I’ll hold my pee to avoid having to deal with a washroom attendant. 

I did a little research and found many websites that explain how much to properly tip.  While this information is helpful, it doesn’t give me the ability to do math in my head under pressure.  I found one website that has tip cards!  Genius!  My luck, though, I’d lose the tip card, emptying the contents of my purse frantically searching for it and SWEATING.  All the while, the cashier stands there wondering why I don’t just figure the tip in my head and not-so-secretly thinks I’m an idiot.