Let’s wander off into yet another debate about tipping (“gratuities” WTF).
Here’s something that should make everyone’s ears prick up:
A Texas Roadhouse customer has reignited the tipping debate after spotting a major issue with the automated calculation.
Recording the clip from his table as he zoomed in on the payment machine, he explained: “I’m at Texas Roadhouse, is my math off? Because 20 percent of $66 is not fucking $16.”
The receipt on the screen showed that his order had come to $66.66. He had then selected the standard 20 percent tipping option which showed added $16.28, rather than the expected $13.33, to take his total up to $82.94.
And the unexpected $2.95 extra left the content creator scratching his head. He wrote a simple caption that read: “What’s going on here Texas Roadhouse?”
I never ever use the auto-tip function when paying for a meal, simply because I have no control over what happens to the tip amount — supposedly given to the server, but all too often either partially- or wholly pocketed by the manager, or shared with the other restaurant staff.
Sorry, but I’m only interested in tipping the waiter or waitress (“server” WTF) a decent amount when the service has been exemplary. And I pay cash directly into the waiter’s hand so that he gets to keep all of it.
On a parallel theme, this one about the so-called “Texas” Roadhouse chain.
I say “Texas” because the parent company is based in Kansas, not Texas, and as with all chains, your experience in them will vary greatly depending on where you are.
Clutching our TR gift card in hand (thankee friend for the gift), New Wife and I once went to the one nearest our home for a free meal, and the whole experience was excellent: food served hot and in good time, great service, friendly waitress and so on.
So when we found ourselves out of town a little while ago and had few (okay, two) choices for “out” food, we picked the local Texas Roadhouse largely because of our previous meal at the other one.
Oy. We should have gone to the IHOP.
Nearly an hour’s wait*, indifferent service — food arrived late, order incomplete and the frozen margeritas which arrived midway through the meal, and only after a reminder to the waiter… and let me not even speak of the unbelievable noise in the place.
Okay, let me speak of the unbelievable noise in the place. Since when did the celebration of a birthday or other special occasion become something that involves the entire fucking restaurant? Loud, raucous singing of “Happy Birthday” accompanied by hammering on tables and thereafter much joyous screaming: I’ve had quieter times at an indoor shooting range. And by the way, all this happened over a backdrop of thunderous, earsplitting Nashville-style country music and the usual shouting of the other patrons. (From the movie The Long Riders comes the memorable Cole Younger quote: “Texans sure are loud!”)
And I had no hearing protection, either, although I should have.
So when confronted by the auto-tip thing on the table-top electronic menu thing (no paper menus WTF), I promptly hit the “0%” button, and we walked out without leaving any kind of tip to the waiter whatsoever. (In his defense, I should mention that most of his time was spent chatting up one of the waitresses: a far more pleasurable activity than, you know, serving customers.)
So file my next visit to Texas Roadhouse under “NEVER”.
*In the normal course of events, we never wait longer than a few minutes to be seated, at any restaurant because frankly, no food — no matter how apparently special — will be worth the wait. When we arrive at a restaurant and are told the wait will be more than five minutes, we leave and find somewhere else.
That we had been forced by circumstance to wait for nearly an hour at Texas Roadhouse before being subjected to the horrorshow as described above just made us all the angrier.
