Tippers Make Good Disciples

2007-06-05T02:10:00Z

It's just work, work, work for the Dalai Llama. Exiled from his homeland following the rather rude takeover of his hood by the Chinese, the happy-go-lucky Tibetan has appeared around the world, spreading his message of peace and love. Now, with a marketing angle Satchi and Satchi would love to have thought of, he's getting the word to the herd right when they're vulnerable. I'm talking, of course about the uplifting little tidbits we all read on the sides of tip jars throughout Melbourne's endless street café's and bars as we wait patiently for the exhausted waitress to tally up two coffees and a doughnut. He must have struck a deal with every owner operator in town giving him spiritual ad space in return for provoking a guilty buck drop from the bloated customer.

Why else would we see pointless life messages scrawled in red texter on the torn cardboard end of a VB carton before being jammed into a huge glass that doesn't exist when you're ordering a coke, no ice. Don't get me wrong, some of them are quite good. The Globe on Chapel St always has a short thought for the day that manages to invoke smiles rather than contempt and suggests at least one of the staff is well balanced. That’s a great trait when you're often expected to carry four coffees at once. There was one about cracks in the sky and, er, well I can't really remember it but it sounded pretty cool after two lattes, three beers and a rogan josh.

But some of them just suck arse. For every side street poet lauriet there's a thousand illiterate preachers who should probably concentrate on making nice food rather than on evangelist rants. Don't try and convince me that if I give you the change from my ridiculously overpriced eggs on toast then I'll be blessed by my guardian angel and showered with good fortune till Tuesday. I'd have better odds if I stuck my money on the 3.30 at Flemington or in a raffle for a BMW at Chadstone. At least then I wouldn't be subjected to a star spangled rainbow, badly drawn around the waitress's little pearls of wisdom while also being unwittingly printed backwards on her forearm. Seriously, clean the forks or something. Clearly there is a place I have in mind that is tearing me up with inane and increasingly desperate attempts to ensure I never have parking meter change after lunch but I can't tell who it is because I've already been beaten up once this year, thanks. I 'rationalised' my tipping there ages ago in protest but I decided to retire my patronage completely this week when I was informed that my two bucks could now buy me an aura that absorbs spiritual energy and reflects on the cusp of my moon. Get fucked.

I would rather see written in all its honest glory: 'ANYTHING YOU CAN SPARE, CAN WE HAVE IT? WE'RE TRYING TO GET THROUGH UNI AND WE DON'T GET PAID MUCH YOU KNOW'. Or maybe: I SPENT ALL MY MONEY ON BEER BUT WOULD LOVE TO SCORE SOME POT AND A PIZZA FOR TONIGHT. FANCY CHIPPING IN?
I know I sound like a grouchy cynic who's so tight he squeaks when he walks but I'm not. I fully understand the etiquette regarding the tip jar, including the one where your mate doesn't charge you for the toasted sandwich and hot chocolate but expects you to drop a $3 minimum to show your appreciation. I support the idea of tipping and like to think I give generously to the cause, assuming of course that I don't get a thumb in my soup or a pube in my porridge. And I certainly don't condone the actions of those bastards who think it's oh-so-zany to drop a note in saying, "here's a tip…don't walk between parked cars". Spit in their food by all means.

But rather than trying to think up new age bollocks that's more suited to a teenager's diary, it would be nice to see either the honest approach mentioned previously or interesting pieces of information like "did you know…? Phat is actually spelt f-a-t and school doesn't have a K in it".

Maybe "Hooray…Lima is the capital of Peru!!!" or my favourite "it would be heaps cheaper to buy this stuff at the supermarket and cook it at home but we're happy to take cash off the lazy so thanks very much". Come on café proprietors; get us learned up good.

On Tuesday last week I set off on a mission to seek out the best and worst tip jar philosophers while trying not to strangle any hippies. What follows is a list of some of the offences I witnessed with the names removed to protect the down right ridiculous.

A true friend is someone who reaches for your hand and touches your heart.
Unless of course he's Jack the Ripper in which case you are probably a low grade street whore whose about to be shown her vital organs.

Tippers make good lovers.
Why? Because they have to scam drinks out of the opposite sex by seducing them due to the fact that they gave all their cash to a presumptuous drug dustbin who makes bad coffee?

Failure is the path of least persistence!
Whimsical and not particularly funny pun clearly written by a middle aged male who gets all his material from Frasier.

Our life is what our thoughts make it.
Oh dear. Whoever 'thought' of writing this hasn't got much to look forward to by the sound of things.

Change is as good as a rest.
Then if I give you some change will you give it a rest?

You cannot pour happiness on others without getting a few drops on yourself.
You cannot be serious. One thing I do know is that I cannot pour boiling chip fat on patronising waiters without getting at least one laugh from the room.

We are all but lost socks in the laundrette of life.
And presumably this ingenious author is the basket case we arrived in. By all means compare yourself to a cheesy, soiled rag but don't involve me. Talk about putting your foot in it!

Feeling tipsy?
No.

So there we are. That was about as wise as it got for the spiritual icons who clean the dishes in our cafes. I don't like to criticise too much as I emigrated here from the icy shores of mother England, a place where a cup of coffee means a spoonful of dried rat poison mixed with the contents of a soiled ashtray in half a pint of metallic water that has already passed through seven people before it got to you. For that reason alone I will be eternally grateful for the quality of Melbourne's products and the smile I usually get when I include a tip at the end. Food is nearly always good and the 5pm breakfast is the most civilised thing I've ever heard of (apart from maybe the electric nose hair clippers I was bought for Christmas last year…strange but incredibly efficient and with no watery eyes). The hospitality industry knows exactly how to turn it on and should be rewarded for their efforts. However, unless Wordsworth is behind the bar, Aesop is serving tables or Haile Selassie has returned to his barista roots I really don't want to know the staff's top tips for spiritual enlightenment. Otherwise there would be no reason to watch Marcia Hines on Australian Idol, would there?

Tippers make good disciples

Tippers Make Good Disciples