The good life
My life has become a series of debit card swipes. Now that I'm on salary, I have been wasting money on so many things. I've been hanging with friends that actually have careers and disposable income as well instead of those who are still working on their undergrad degrees. A few weeks ago, I went out to eat with Jeremy and his friend Brian. I've always like Brian. He's the conceited party animal and misogynistic asshole I wish I could be and sometimes am. Him and his crew of IT field people joined us at Ron of Japan in the Gold Coast. It was a basic hibachi grill type place. It felt so liberating to order anything off the menu and get as many drinks as I wanted without any concern for my bank account. We ate delicious seafood and meats and began to get rowdy as the fourth Super Mai Tais kicked in. One of the guys started mocking our waitresses' terrible pronunciation of the ice cream flavors while the others threw their terrible salad leftovers and waters on the grill. The hibachi chef just cleaned it off politely while we brayed and guffawed like a pack of donkeys. Guilt started to sink in. Does having more money give you a sense of self-entitlement? Does a person become less considerate of people with lower-level service jobs?
I tipped the waitress a whopping 36%. I couldn't live with myself giving her just our included gratuity. I'm still a considerate and grateful man. My conscience just doesn't desert me when times are good.
I tipped the waitress a whopping 36%. I couldn't live with myself giving her just our included gratuity. I'm still a considerate and grateful man. My conscience just doesn't desert me when times are good.