Mouthwash is expensive.

Servers at The Olive Garden location I work at deal with a lot of piddly tips. $5 on a $37 tab, $1 on $11, $4 on $25. We can only have 3 tables at a time, so these diner-like tips don’t add up to vast riches, especially when you only get a chance to turn your tables three times during a single shift. Do the math. On an especially crappy night, if your three tables are averaging $5 per table, and you turn them 3 times, that means you make $45. After you tip out your buser ($5) and your bartender ($3), you’re left with a pathetic $37.

The other night, several of my coworkers were discussing the price of toiletries. Simple things like shampoo and conditioner and contact solution. Contact solution alone costs $10. Overheard, a conversation between O and J:

O: Things are so expensive!

J: I know. Yesterday I went to the drugstore, just for basic necessities, and I spent everything I made on Monday night. Just toothpaste and dishwasher soap and all the little things we need around the house.

It is true: there’s a discrepancy between how much we earn and how much things cost. Prices keep rising, but tips don’t. 10-15% is the norm in this geographic area, and it was probably the norm in 1970.

I know some people think $10 is a lot to tip a server, but please remember that $10 doesn’t amount to a whole lot at Rite-Aid. Tips pay our bills. They aren’t just a little “thank you” you’re giving to a teenager who will then proceed to blow it all on lip gloss and bubblegum. Tips pay bills, buy medicine, pay co-pays, buy school clothes for the kids, and pay for $200 textbooks. Please be generous. Remember how little a dollar buys the next time you’re tempted to write in that amount on the tip line on your credit card slip. Be generous. Go for $3. Or even $5. Surprise us. Make us smile in between trips to refill your coffee cup and beg the salad man for extra olives for your salad. Be good to your server.