The entitlement mentality and today’s tipping situation

The other night, I took a friend out for her birthday at an upscale French restaurant. The food is magnificent, as authentic as anything I tasted when

I lived in Paris.

There is absolutely nothing about this place

I can complain about. Except, I am going to complain. Even perfection has its tics.

Normally, service at this restaurant is sublime. You get the sense that they want to be there.

But this night, I had a problem. After having a wonderful meal and then calculating a respectable tip of 20% on a pretty expensive bill, since the service was OK but not exceptional, I gave the waiter the money, and he disappeared.

Later on, while I was finishing my coffee, I noticed him glaring at me as he was flitting around the tables nearby.

Normally, I leave a tip between 30 and 40% because I used to work in a fast food joint and know it isn’t easy work. However, nobody is owed a tip, and it’s not my fault if the employer isn’t paying a decent salary. So the glaring, and then the lack of a “thank you” for the tip was unnerving.

Then I did what I do whenever I have an experience that can fit into the miserly few characters they allow us on Twitter: I tweeted the following: “Tonight I had a nice dinner, and my server was pleasant & efficient. I left him a 20% tip. I usually leave between 20-30% The server took my payment, I told him to keep the change and then he ignored me as I finished my coffee. No ”thank you for the tip.” The new etiquette stinks”

Surprisingly, it got a lot of “likes,” which goes to show you that I’m not the only one who has had to deal with an ungrateful little whippersnapper. Of course, there were a bunch of current or former waitstaff who weighed in, calling me entitled, saying that 20% was a pittance and even attacking my teeth.

As I said before, I often tip up to 50% if the person serving it to me showed that they really appreciated my presence, albeit temporary, in their lives.

If they made me feel as if it wasn’t a burden to serve me and their name was not Job, it’s my default position to show gratitude with extra cash.

But the suggestion that a tip is owed, not earned, and the refusal to extend a simple “thank you” amount to a troubling commentary on something that has more to do with character than carbohydrates. I’m tired of people assuming they have rights and privileges regardless of their own conduct. It’s not like I want a stranger to write me into her will if I hold the door open or let him go ahead of me in line. Those are the normal reflexes of people who live in a civilized society.

I’m talking about the idea that if you extend yourself beyond what is expected in a particular social situation, that should be rewarded by the most valuable and least expensive of things: a smile and acknowledgment.

Waiters and waitresses have a hard job, but so do police officers, doctors, construction workers and even immigration lawyers. The last time I checked, no one was leaving money in a tip jar for me.

It’s wrong to assume that even the most mediocre service deserves some kind of financial premium.

Sorry, but all of those kids who were raised by Mommy and Daddy to believe that they were special have morphed into presumptuous ingrates. That bread basket you just put on my table is not going to cure cancer.

That being said, I am still going to tip in a grandiose and generous manner when the person who is on the other side of the money acknowledges my humanity. There are a lot of young people who make my lattes, mix my Aperol spritzes and slice my pizza into exactly the correct size of slice who deserve not only a tip, but my genuine gratitude for their genuine kindness.

As for those who think I owe them, this Karen — or Mademoiselle Carine, as the case may be — has better use for her hard earned dough.