Have you tipped your doorman yet?
A recent story on the evening network news addressed a question we all ask every year at this time: How much should we tip our doorman?
I don’t remember which network it was that raised this important issue, but my guess is that it’s based in New York City. Which also just happens to be home to the majority of people who live in buildings that have doormen.
Last year, in fact, a strike by the city’s doormen was narrowly averted, much to the relief of residents in 3,000 apartment buildings who would have been forced to learn how to open their own doors. Although it probably wouldn’t have mattered much to the city’s 88,000 homeless people who don’t HAVE doors.
(Before I go any further, I probably should apologize to those readers who may be offended by my gender-specific use of the word “doorman.” The politically-correct term apparently is “door attendant,” but that sounds a little fussy to me. So I’ll stick with “doorman” and risk politically-correct wrath).
But, back to tipping. I missed how much the network report said I should tip our doorman, because I got distracted by a kerfuffle between our butler and my valet. So I checked other sources.
The Wall Street Journal suggested tipping your doorman anywhere from $25 to $150, which seemed pretty chintzy in a city where $25 is otherwise known as “a cup of coffee” and $150 is “light lunch.”
But the amount of the tip isn’t the only question.
After you’ve tipped your doorman, what about your building super ($20$100) and your elevator operator ($20-$50)? (I can’t remember the last time I saw an elevator operator in Dayton, Ohio. Maybe in a Groucho Marx movie.)
So how much to tip isn’t nearly as important as whom to tip. Or not to tip.
“With the most wonderful time of the year upon us, it’s time to be benevolent and take care of those who take care of us on an ongoing basis,” answers Lisa Grotts, a San Francisco-based etiquette expert. “We get when we give.” Which also is the motto of Washington lobbyists.
Experts say, tip your hairstylist, but not your doctor. Your newspaper carrier, but not your postman. The person who cuts your hair, but not the person who teaches your children.
“You don’t want to give the impression that you’re trying to earn your child preferential treatment,” The Wall Street Journal explained. Besides, it’s well known that most teachers would rather have another “World’s Best Teacher” coffee mug than a handful of dirty old cash.
But, whatever you do, don’t forget your doorman. If you don’t take care of him, you could be stuck in your lobby forever.