I don’t know if they teach this theory, the Pygmalion Theory, to people anymore, but if not, they need to.
The young waitress I had at lunch must have seen an old lady with little tipping ability when I walked in and sat down at a table in her section today. She let my glass of tea get completely empty. Little did she know how badly the ice I was sucking on when I finally got someone to get her to bring me some more tea because all I had left was ice, but little did she know how badly that cold ice was hurting my teeth. She was spending her time buzzing around a table of middle aged men, who probably, in her mind, would leave a better tip.
I start the tip (in my mind), if I’m alone and in an average restaurant for lunch, at $5 and work my way down, depending on the service. I noticed she was far more hasty in bringing me my check than she was in being sure I had what I needed to enjoy my meal.
I was halfway through my plate when the check was plopped onto my table. After she walked away, after asking if everything was all right, but not bothering to wait for an answer, she didn’t notice I flipped the ticket over. It actually had percentages already figured and printed on the bottom of the check as to how much a 15% tip was, a 20% tip and even a 25% tip!
She got less than 10%. I can do math in my head. As I left my dollar on the table, I glanced over to where those men who got such good service had been sitting. I noticed they each left a dollar too.
She assumed I’d be a poor tipper, and because she assumed that, I was.