For years I sported non-slip shoes and served Chicago's public to make a living. When I first found myself taking orders, the tips compensated for the state's low hourly wage rates for waitresses. But, as the economy began to plummet, so did my daily income. Nobody could even spare ten percent of their bill anymore, and my hourly wage sat at $4.25. Luckily, my restaurant smiled at one of Chicago's busy expressways, so there was more hope for my working environment than there were for others. Occasionally, celebrities strolled through our doors, and it was always a wonder as to who the lucky server would be. After all, you would think the faces from our televisions are some of the only humans still able to leave a generous bill on the table after their meals...right? Guess again.
Imagine having models, fighters, singers, and rappers entering the doorways of the place you are serving at. It almost sounds like a dream come true, until you learn the truth. Even the famous people are money pinchers. What is even worse, they almost all expect to be treated royally. Sure, I have heard a story or two of a generous celebrity. Who doesn't remember last summer, when actor Johnny Depp came to Chicago and left his server with no headache (plus four grand!)? However, it was a story for a reason: it's rare.
I had the number one world welterweight champion sit in my section. Personally, I don't follow fighting matches that often, but table 24 had a face that hung from the ceilings of Sports Authorities next to other great athletes across the nation, and I hoped he would bestow a pleasant reward upon my chosen seat. He wasn't rude, at least he agreed to take a picture with the workers, but when I brought him the bill his accomplice scoffed at how the meal wasn't free. I apologized, I really was sorry, but when I had approached my manager about nixing the bill, he shot me down. Of course, I couldn't tell the champ and his friend that, so I just blushed while sheepishly repeating, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry...". After the welterweight pro's friend scoured at me for what seemed like an eternity (probably a minute or two), I left and then arrived to accept their payment. Once they had forked over the cash, I graced them with thanks as they solemnly rose and exited. The tip? Ten bucks. No, their bill wasn't outrageously large, but I thought twenty dollars minimum would have been appropriate. You live, you learn.
One night I got a text from a friend and co-worker of mine that one of my favorite rappers had just walked through the front doors of our work. I lived an hour away, but I jumped in my car and shook while I anticipated sharing the same air as him. When I arrived, he had just left. It was poor timing, but I stayed to have a drink and discuss what I had missed. Fellow servers gushed over how polite he had been, he had taken a picture with everyone, he had signed autographs, his girlfriend was beautiful...oh, and his bill was as much as he tipped - nothing. You heard it, nothing. Hey, at least he was nice (I guess).
Not all stars are as charming as the above rapper. Just a week prior to his arrival, a known R&B singer strutted through the same doors as his rapper friend. During his visit, his manager forbid pictures, autographs, and the recognized celeb even sat and watched as my manager cracked his crab legs for him upon request. After a strict drop-in, my crab cracking manager zeroed the bill, and the lucky waitress scored nothing but some crumbs left behind.
What gives, Chicago!? Note to all: 20% tips should be per usual - even if you're famous. Scratch that, especially if you're famous! Not a tipper? Then hit up a drive-thru. Bon appétit!
