Let’s talk about tipping. Not the kind where you knock over a sleeping cow, but the custom of giving someone bonus money for just doing their job. I don’t know the history behind tipping, and I’m too lazy to do the research, so I’ll leave that to one of you.
I don’t have a problem leaving a tip if I receive exceptional service, but the whole thing has gotten out of hand. And it’s not just restuarants. Everybody expects a tip these days. Even the pan-handlers on the corner by Walmart have started demanding a 15% gratuity for mediocre begging services. What’s next? Will bloggers soon have a tip link at the bottom of their post?
If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, the photo-prompt server and author of exceptional 100-word stories is Carla Tortelli Wisoff-Fields. If you’d like to participate in this exercise of madness, head over to her blog for step-by-step instructions. To view the fashionable hairstyles of the writers in FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here. Be sure and leave a tip.
Hey, Blanche. What’ve you been up to? I swung by last night, but no one was home.
Nadine invited me over for dinner. We hung out for a while.
Sounds like fun. Her place is close to the feedlot, isn’t it? A fat, juicy fly sounds delicious.
Oh, Nadine won’t eat flies. In fact, she has a terrible fear of them.
Why is that? Flies taste great, and they practically catch themselves.
She says it because they live on cow dung.
So, what did you have?
Randy came by, hoping to mate. Neither of us was receptive.
Yum. Sounds tasty.
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Or the three people I guilted into reading this blog, whatever.
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