Fool me once, now show me the money

A man and woman in their early fifties are at the bar. I don’t recognize them; they’re not regulars. They stay at the bar for hours. The guy keeps saying,

“Don’t worry honey, I’m going to take care of you. Don’t worry, I’m going to tip you well. You don’t mind if we sit here right?”

I’m wary. The more people talk about tipping the less it usually happens.

Their bill reaches $140. Not bad. The woman says,

“I love your glasses!”

“Thank you.”

“Can I try them on?”

My initial reaction is: ‘Absolutely not. I don’t know you.’ But considering their bill is $140 dollars and I would like a good tip, I remove my glasses. I hand them to the woman. I regret it immediately.

With my glasses back on my face I close out their bill. I’m expecting at least a $30 tip for being a bartender and an eyeglass store. They leave me $20. Tipping FAIL. I promise myself I’m never letting random strangers try on my glasses again.

The guy is trying to get my attention again. He says,

“We’d like two more glasses of wine. This time I promise to tip you well.”

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