Tipping: an American love affair
“I’ve only got a twenty. Do you have any smaller bills?” asked the wife this Saturday as we found ourselves sat on the side of I-205 while traffic sped past us.
“For the AAA man when he comes.”
“Wait, we’re meant to tip the AAA guy?”
“We’re not meant to, I just thought that we could. So do you have anything smaller?”
“Of all the things I’m worrying about at the moment,” I said casting a glance at our car’s blown tire, “tipping the AAA guy, when he finally decides to show up, is not one of them.”
“So you’ve got nothing smaller then?”
“No, no, I have not.”