America is synonymous with a peculiar list of cultural exports: Coca-Cola, Bruce Springsteen, peanut butter on everything, monster trucks, prescription drug commercials with terrifying side effects, and, of course, tipping.
I remember the first time I visited the United States, some 16 years ago, shortly after finishing high school. Coming from a country where leaving a few spare coins on the table was considered high praise, the whole business felt like navigating a Vietnamese minefield.
The actual employers are nowhere in sight while customers and workers fight over spare change like gladiators in an arena made of iPad swivel stands.
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I was genuinely shocked to discover that tipping wasn’t an optional nod to genuinely exceptional service. No, like breathing and blinking, it was mandatory.
Tapped out
For my first
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