On my way to work, I take the lagoon road. It goes through the golf course, behind the Four Seasons and past a whole bunch of gated communities. Basically there's a crap ton of rich people who live there so there's never any cops and I can speed like a demon. True story. I go about 60 in that 35, no problem.

Last weekend I turned a corner on my way and saw this future president type guy: crew-cut, tan, apparently drunk in the middle of the afternoon, hanging between the shoulders of two other fratty looking guys who were dragging him into a gate community. People in front of me were all pulling over. From closer to, I could see that his chest was covered in blood. I kept going but I felt irrationally bad about it. I hadn't witnessed anything so I couldn't help with that. I'm not a doctor. All I could have done was get blood on my apron and get a demerit for being late. There was nothing there for me to do.

Remember that video where Tom Cruise talks about Scientology? He says something wild and woolly about how if there's a car accident he wants to be there because he's a Scientologist and therefore he will know what to do? I kind of wished for a minute that I was a Scientologist. Not that that would actually give me any idea of what to do that might be helpful, but just so I could feel like I knew what to do. This is how cults get started.

Last night at work I had a guy ask me how much he should tip me. I was like, don't ask me that! Seriously, how uncomfortable is that? I was like, hey, it's up to you. 20% would be cool but I'm not going to tell you what to do. He was like, you did a good job. You were cheerful, effective and very sweet. You deserve a good tip and you should ask for it. This was really frustrating because people who don't understand the way the world actually works are frustrating.

This is how the world works: I am taxed on a set percentage of my sales, whether I actually receive that in tips or not. I usually receive more than that because I bust my balls but only because I get enough good tips from people who appreciate me to cancel out the cheapskates and foreigners who don't know better. I have to be pretty detached. I can't do it with an entitled attitude because that leads to hissyfits and hissyfits lead to bad service. I can't say, I deserve this or that percent because no matter how much I try a lot of people either don't know how to tip or don't tip based on my service or anything I could do for them. I've gotten sheepish piles of quarters from people who just didn't have anything else. It doesn't bother me. I can flirt my way to a forty percent tip from someone else. Basically, I don't care about a bad tip as long as I know I did everything I could for that person to make them happy. That's my job.

So to have somebody talking to me about "deserving" or whatever was awkward and irritating. Things we "deserve" are mostly imaginary. He was old enough to know what a good tip looks like. He also chastised his date for ordering for herself. It was uncomfortable. At least he wasn't the guy who made out with his girlfriend until their burgers came, with his eyes open, ogling me. That was pretty fucking uncool.