> Ell"always tips, because you never know if there were unseen factors hindering the waiter"myruh

I'm pretty conscientious about not blaming the server if the cook was the one messing everything up, and sometimes, indeed, you can't tell. But sometimes all the relevant factors are right there in plain view. I think you know my infamous druggie-at-Friendly's story:

* So we go to Friendly's, a restaurant I like to call Unfriendly's because of the astonishingly poor service that one gets there, on average. (Leen and I took Ellie out to a Friendly's here last summer in the hopes of getting some of that infamous poor service, but it turned out to be actually good. I felt so ripped off.) But nothing matches this one kid who looked like his brain was on the mothership. I'm about 75% sure he was stoned. We ordered our food, and, while waiting, we noticed the tables around us. One woman got her meal but had no silverware -- she asked the kid for silverware, and he disappeared, and she asked him again when he passed by again. Apologies were made, and he left again and vanished. She finally had to go up and get her own silverware. Orders were wrong and drinks were missing at another table next to us. At some point he came by our table and asked how everything was, and we said, "Well, the food isn't here yet," and he said, "... Ok, but except for that, everything...is fine...?" When the food finally did come, the drinks were missing and so was our silverware. Miraculously, we got the silverware before too much had cooled off, but my mother's shake didn't arrive, in spite of the fact that we asked him for it multiple times during the course of the meal, until we were ready to leave. It got so ridiculous that the people seated at the tables around us started making comments to each other about how completely out of it he was.

Now, I'm convinced the problem was either that he was on drugs or simply an idiot. But I suppose it could have been that his parents had both died in a plane crash that morning, or he had discovered his childhood supermodel fiancee was making extra money as a prostitute on the side. But if that were the case, what was he doing at work? And why should I tip him for doing a worse job than if I had been in charge of setting my own table and putting my own order in to the kitchen? If I knew for sure he had had a personal tragedy THAT bad I might have tipped him for charity, but not for service. But like I say, I'm pretty sure he was stoned rather than distraught.

Story #2 also comes from Friendly's. Our server was a prematurely gray woman on the young side of middle age. She was cheerful and polite, and she took forEVER. Ask her for ketchup or water or a drink refill, and she was gone for a stupid amount of time. I couldn't blame her for the length of time before our meals came, because you never know how backlogged the cooks are, and I would have given her the benefit of doubt on the rest, too, because you never know how busy they are, except that between the times we asked for things and the time we got things, we saw her behind the counter chatting and socializing with the other workers. The sundae was the last straw. Leen ordered a chocolate sundae of some sort. (At Friendly's, the servers put the sundaes together, so there is no "sundae maker" or anything that could possibly have also been at fault.) It took exactly 38 minutes to arrive, and when it did, it had the wrong kind of ice cream. Meanwhile, again, we spotted her chatting and having a merry old time. We couldn't figure out what she was waiting for, especially since other people were getting their ice cream nice and promptly.

That's the closest I've ever come to going the step beyond "no tip" and leaving a penny as an insult, but I didn't think it necessary, and besides, why should she get my penny? So we just left in disgust.