The case for tipping: Sarah
I have a life rule: never wear pants on a Sunday. Or any bottom for that matter. It’s called a bottomless mimosa brunch for a reason. There is a bottom to the mimosas I can drink, but not to my outfit.
Now that we know each other a little better, I’ll let you in on my second life rule: always be nice to the waitstaff. As a corollary to that rule, if I’m with someone who is rude to the waitstaff, I’m out. They are done in my book. Friendship over. It could be my grandmother. I’d say, “Sorry, Muriel, we’re done. I’m calling you by your first name because you are no longer my grandma, but a stranger to me, as you were unkind to our waiter.”
So as an ADDENDUM to that rule, if you don’t “believe” in tipping, I think you are a straight-up monster who should be banished to the netherworld from whence you came. Yeah, I’m looking at you, Muriel.