I go to this cafe occasionally. It’s about the only place in town I can go for breakfast if I want something other than a mac-biscuit.
Anyway, I left a huge tip the other day. It had nothing to do with the wink she gave me, or the cleavage she flashed me, although those things didn’t hurt my feelings (I think she’s like this with most men). No, it was the pat on the shoulder she gave me as she walked away.*
I like to be touched.
I’ve mentioned that I touch people a lot. Shake the hand, pat the shoulder, or even hug if I have permission. I do it because people need it, but I don't force it, of course.
It’s me giving something of myself to them. They need it, I give it. It’s all part of the service, folks.
But a waitress who touches me, and then brings me food….
That’s worth a big tip.