The topic of tipping has been on everyone’s mind since COVID-19 turned the practice upside down.

It seems like nowadays, no matter how much or how little service is provided, everyone expects a tip. Case in point…

Earlier this summer, Jan and I flew to Calgary, drove through the Rockies to Banff, and then down to Kelowna. After two weeks, we flew home from Vancouver. In the airport departure lounge, I decided to grab a coffee.

“Gary, they’ll be boarding soon, so don’t take too long,” Jan said.

That’s when it happened…

“Hi, I’d like a small coffee, please.” 

The attendant wordlessly handed me an empty cup and pointed to the self-serve station. Then, he turned the payment screen toward me. It read: $5.49. Add tip: 18%.

Wait a minute! He wants ME to pour my own coffee, add some cream and tip HIM 18%? That’s $6.48 for a do-it-yourself coffee! Grounds for frustration, if you ask me.

I was gobsmacked! I frantically searched the screen for an option to skip the automatic 18%. I found “Customize Tip,” but that’s where things spiraled…

I fumbled with the buttons, trying to adjust the tip. It was like trying to apply those long sticky baggage tags when you check your bags at the airport—impossible!

Now what had I done? The screen flashed, showing I’d added a 200% tip! (As if $5.49 for a self-serve coffee wasn’t enough, now I was paying $10.98 for a single cup!)

Meanwhile, the line behind me was growing. People were getting restless. They want their coffee. I feel a brew-haha brewing.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

“Gary, what’s taking so long? They’re boarding now,” Jan said.

“Jan, I can’t talk. I’m trying to pay for my coffee!” I snapped, hanging up.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

“Gary, don’t be snippy. You can use a tip or two on being polite.”

Meanwhile, the increasingly agitated coffee-seekers behind me were ready to riot. I thought I’d pay cash and get out of there, but of course, they didn’t accept cash—only credit or debit.

Now I was sweating. Forget coffee; I needed cold water—and maybe someone in line would be kind enough to share their nitroglycerin spray.

Finally, I returned to the departure lounge.

“Gary, you took so long there’s no time for you to buy me a banana to snack on,” Jan said.

If only she knew the words on the tip of my tongue!

Living Retired is written by humor columnist Gary Chalk. For more laughs, visit LivingRetired.press