tallyhoo's Xanga

I’ve contracted a case of tipping

Fri, 19 Oct 2007 01:10:14 GMT

Every time I walk into a “sit-down” restaurant I’ve entered into a social contract. This isn’t my idea. Someone else told me about it in an article they wrote. I only wish I could remember where. (This is one downside to the dozens of free periodicals delivered to my workplace each week.) For the purposes of this thought, the place of publication is irrelevant—although if you know of the article to which I refer, please jar my memory.

About this social contract. It exists between the patrons and the service staff of these sit-down restaurants. It goes something like this: by choosing to darken the door of restaurant X, I have pledged to pay a portion of the server/bus boy’s compensation.

The server probably pulls in an hourly wage of $3. The lion’s share of his income consists of the freewill tipping of those he serves. I know this. He knows this. So long as I choose to eat at his restaurant I am subject to this contact.

Social contracts are funny things. From my limited understanding, they tend to involve parties voluntarily surrendering certain rights in return for an agreed-upon set of services or guarantees. In the case of a restaurant-going type, the patron surrenders her right to surcharge-free food. In return, she is guaranteed a level of service much higher than she might otherwise receive. If, for instance, she were to remain home and enjoy her surcharge-free entrée, no amount of coaxing will convince her pet gerbil to top off her Coke or, for crying out loud, bring her another gin and tonic. It’s a tradeoff.

Another thing about social contracts: they are famously difficult to enforce. What are the consequences of paying the check and leaving the table bare? Well, there really aren’t any, unless you count that feeling of creeping dirtiness that can cow even the most brazen cheapskate into leaving a respectable tip; or the outside chance that they’ll see you coming next time and slip some khat into your burrito right before you take the pee test for the big job you just landed. Ah, social contracts.

The servers, they are at my mercy. There is no reckoning for me if I vanish without leaving a tip. But I know that my leaving no tip is a few steps away from them missing a paycheck. What about levels of service, you object? And you’d be raising a good point if you did. Lazy, incompetent servers should not be rewarded for terrible service or rude behavior. So, as the previously mentioned author suggested, leave them an average tip and promptly speak to their manager.

Just as in your workplace where you wouldn’t expect to lose a paycheck simply because you made a couple of dumb mistakes that week, neither should you automatically penalize a server who may be tired or just broke up with their girlfriend. Give their manager some feedback. If their performance is consistently poor, most management will find a way to improve it, perhaps “permanently.” Yes, there are exceptions. That’s not the point. The point is that no one forced you to dine at “The Argentine Grill” last night.” You choose to, now pay up.

The beauty of this social contract is that it is not formalized. What if, no matter the service, the server always got 18 percent (or whatever a diner is supposed to tip these days)? I’d be at their mercy—because if the contract were formalized and the tip guaranteed, a lot of service would quickly degenerate into thinly-veiled efforts to get me out the door without too much work. (Ah, behold the federal government bureaucracy. But that’s a whole other pot of soup.).

Still, imagine if somehow the contract were formalized. Imagine if servers made a decent wage and the food was simply marked up some more. Then a tip would mean something. This system would seem to be more efficient. Pay your staff a wage they can live on and provide opportunities for performance-based bonuses—i.e. tips. Those non-tipping scoundrels would pay their share. Average folk wouldn’t have to fret over how much to tip sub-par service. And, glory of glories, we wouldn’t have to suffer through waiters up-selling that $11 glass of Vouvray to go with the mussels, or droning on about how great the special of the day would be in an effort to increase the total tab and by extension, their tip. (Note: “special of the day” can also be translated as a not-so-specially-priced meal that really isn’t any better than the pork chops. It’s just not on the menu.)

For now though, we must suffer the nerve-wracking indignities (at least for an infrequent restaurant-goer such as myself) of the social contract and attempt to dignify the work of those who make their living based on our compliance with the contract. I guess this is one of those trials of modern life.

Monday, June 18, 2007

Mon, 18 Jun 2007 01:35:11 GMT

The eBay of charity

What if you could help a desperately poor person, maybe even help lift them permanently from poverty? And what if in so doing you brought their family out of poverty as well as that of their neighbors? Turns out you can.

www.Kiva.org. It’s what you’d get if you created a cocktail of Facebook, eBay and the World Bank. Stir in a generous helping of…well, generosity. The outcome is an innovation in third-world poverty relief that holds the power to trump the complacency of many rich nation citizens and lure them in with that universal human desire to participate in other people's lives.

Kiva combines the not-so-new idea of micro-lending, with much newer technology like Paypal, online social networking and blogging. Granted, I think this organization has yet to tap into the innovate capacity of their website (the lending data, third-party group transparency, and borrower profiles could certainly be more robust). But, wow, such a great idea. By matching wealth--that’s you and me--with credit-strapped, yet entrepreneurial, poverty Kiva brings small loans (usually in the neighborhood of a thousand dollars) to very impoverish people around globe. The idea is to offer food stall operators in Baku, fabric vendors in Phnom Penh, and mechanics in Addis Ababa access to small (in western, though not developing world terms) loans.

The nitty-gritty is a sort of eBayesque “bidding” system that allows people with available capital to loan it to third world entrepreneurs via an Internet loaning platform. You can make loans in denominations as small as $25 to as many borrowers as you wish, and in a way diversify your portfolio. If you are a hard-charging free market capitalist you will be disappointed that you don’t earn interest on your lending.

But think of it this way: a loan of $1,200 to a Tanzanian farmer holds the potential to permanently lift her family out of poverty and even create new jobs among the most impoverished. We can join with 24 other lenders with $50 to spare and suddenly a farmer in Tanzania can dramatically expand her operation, buy additional seed, fertilizer, maybe even a plow to replace her hoe—a hoe for crying out loud!

We’re talking serious innovation. Unlike the charitable giving of yesterday, you get to decide the exact nature of the project to support AND over time you get your money back.

I admit that Kiva seemed like a cool idea when I read about it a few months ago. But I was compelled to recommend it and participate after reading Rich Christians upon the advice of the most hospitable Diercks commune. While I am still working through what I see as flaws in Sider’s arguments, he makes very germane and convicting points that affluent Christians must consider. He addresses the question of what Christians with plenty of money, nice houses, nice cars and good jobs should do in the face of crushing poverty (and no, not the domestic poor, the dollar-a-day variety of poverty)? His answer, in short, is to give more of our money away.

I commend this website and organization to you. It is good to lend some dough to a hard-working poor person in Cambodia or mechanic in Paraguay. I think the Savior smiles upon it.

Industry standard

Fri, 01 Jun 2007 20:37:49 GMT

short statement

Jarring and mildly funny. Recently, a miscellaneous fee appeared on one of my bank statements. My primary brick and mortar bank is Wachovia Bank. You've heard of them, the guys swallowing up other banks in an effort to create synergy and improve customer service [eg. rake in ever larger profits].

This $5.95 fee was marked on my statement as a PFM monthly access fee. After doing some research and speaking with a confused representative at a local branch I discovered that Wachovia decided to start charging a fee each month to customers who use online money management software such as Quicken or MS Money .

I suppose that is the right of a financial institution in a free market economy. But for crying out loud--six bucks to download a dozen transactions to my computer each month? And why don't any of the seven other financial institutions that I use charge such a fee?

But I repeat, that is their right. In attempting to explain the fee the bank representative recommended that I discontinue using of the software I've used for several years (in this case MS Money) and convert to a "paper ledger." I stared at her.

"A paper ledger?" I asked.

She fiddled nervously with her pencil, as if to illustrate the tool I might use to balance the family budget.

"This is 2007," I said, no longer attempting to conceal my incredulity.

With a shrug she turned her chair 20 degrees and mumbled something about calling the 800 customer service number. Our meeting was over. I wanted to ask her why she couldn't provide some customer service, instead of referring me to a corporate phone number. But it was clear Ms. Paper Ledger was not interested in a discussion and I feared losing control of my tongue.

Currently, all I can think is, "how soon I can find a new local bank?" Wachovia has one thing going for them: they have a branch across the street from where we live. But oh-so-much incompetence, disrespect and zero customer service all adds up to a major disgruntled customer ready to walk to the Chevy Chase Bank.

Paper ledgers: 0

21st century: 1

Roadtrip

Mon, 21 Aug 2006 15:12:24 GMT

We are moving our blog-age for a while. Now that we are cross the country we are posting pictures and tales on our other site: www.carandmap.com. Check it out frequently and live the dream along with us.

Climate change

Sat, 24 Jun 2006 03:39:30 GMT

This weekend was slated to be our opening fireworks sales weekend. Unfortunately, after battling an enormous thunderstorm in our 1500sqft tent last night, we learned today that our product delivery will be delayed for three days due to the utter incompetence of the shipping company. Alas.

The good news is that I am now afforded the chance to enter into a learning cyclone. This is when you have an itch to get educated on a topic and find yourself pouring over volumes, charts and endless data in a search for understanding. The vortex sucks the mind in and down and before you know it, you are lost in a swirling mass of enlightenment. Or something.

Today's topic is climate change. After hearing news report after news report on the radio for the last several weeks, and not once sensing that any real learning was taking place, I was compelled to seek out some clarity on this muddy issue.

First thing I learned. (This is where you enlightened folk bear with me. I've much to learn. Please correct and clarify where I err, but do read on to ensure I'm not skewing the facts, as they are.) There are tons of types of greenhouse gases. CO2 is just one of many. Methane (CH4) is another common one.

Second thing. Different greenhouse gases have different Global Warming Potential (yes, this is a technical term). According to the EPA's recent report (Inventory of U.S. Greenhouse Emissions and Sinks), methane has 21 times the GWP of carbon dioxide (see page 3). Let that sink in. In fact, CO2's GWP seems to be comparatively low. It serves as a benchmark for other gases' warming potential.

Now to the interesting stuff. The US emits 7,074 teragrams of CO2 equivalent in greenhouse gases/year (2004 figure, see page 4). Feel free to just think of it as "units" instead of teragrams of CO2 equivalent adjusted for GWP. I find it makes comprehension come more quickly the fewer scientific terms my brain must hold in tension. Of those 7,074 units emitted, 5,988 were from CO2 and 557 were from methane. So approximately 10 times the GWP from CO2.

Fortunately, the trends seem to point to decreasing levels in methane emissions since 1990 (about a 10 percent drop). Seems like good news to me, since methane has 21 times the GWP than CO2 (CO2 emissions have increased more than 16 percent since 1990). But we don't hear a ton in the news reports about other types of greenhouse gases, with much higher warming potential, with annual emissions levels in constant decline.

Makes me curious to learn more, and to attempt to decode all of these techie terms in the climate change literature. Of most interest to me is working through the math on GWP and CO2 weighted comparisons. Anyone know of well-balanced work on this topic?

Another sub-topic of interest: since forests are so-called "CO2 sinks," or entities that take in more CO2 that they emit, what effect on climate change/greenhouse gas emissions would creating more forest land have? The flip side of the coin is, what effect does destroying forest land have? Looks like I've much learning to do. Please send me any constructive sites or information you know of.

Hippie?

Wed, 03 May 2006 20:48:12 GMT

I don't even feel certain I know how to spell that. How in the world could I be one? Someone told me over the phone that I live a "hipppie" lifestyle. What's that supposed to mean anyway?

Does it mean that I take a two week job as a fireworks salesman in Maryland? Because I did. Alyssa and I are off on a two week summer adventure in Maryland in late June, selling fireworks to unsuspecting people lured in by the smell of my charcoal grill. Should be fun. And interesting. Ever wonder what the chances are of lighting our highly-combustible stand on fire while grilling burgers?

So, maybe the grill thing isn't the best idea. But come on, who gets lured in by the smell of cotton candy?

Update: Oh, for the love. I really want to get this. Maybe I am a hippie.

Whoa...

Thu, 27 Apr 2006 14:15:33 GMT

According to xanga, "Aaron currently has no memories." That is frightening. Last time I click on mysterious xanga links.

Metrobus provided an entertaining ride today. My normal morning commute on the bus to the metro stop turned wacky when the bus' suspension (or something) gave out. What is normally a smooth ride on the 24P route to the Pentagon began to feel like an undulating trip on one of those spring-loaded, steel playground animals. You know the ones. The idea is to jump on and rock violently back and forth, and, if you are like me, attempt to get the nose of the thing to touch/smash the ground.

Ultimately, a bus with out adaquate suspension turns an encounter with a manhole into a 30-second side-to-side and up-and-down sway fest. A midddle-aged professional woman five feet in front of me grew increasingly pale in terror as the bus' gesticulations grew more and more animate the closer we got to our final destination. I "debussed" at the last stop before the Pentagon. By now the ride felt like a mobile, inflatable play castle filled with hyperactive kindergarteners. Well, almost. Instead of the racket of little kids delighted screams we enjoyed the noise of steel smashing into steel with each irregulatrity in the road.

I wouldn't say I was scared. It was too much fun watching everyone else on the bus glance around nervously, without making eye-contact lest they betray their own terror. But I will admit I gladly stepped off at the corner of Army-Navy Drive and Hayes Street. See you tomorrow 24P!

(in other news, due to rising gas costs, Washington Metro had the highest (non-event) one day ridership in its 30 year history last week.)

Moving on

Tue, 11 Apr 2006 17:24:25 GMT

On Friday I resigned from my job. I will be leaving in about eight weeks, on my two year anniversary to be exact.

Then what? Who knows.

Alyssa and I have one thing nailed down: our cross-country road trip. We are planning a ten week plunge into the backroads and alleys of the USA. On the agenda: everywhere. When we hatched the idea one of our priorities was visiting the far-flung network of humanity we call friend or family. We'd like to stop and see you. We'll bring a board game, news from the highways, and a bottle of two-buck-Chuck if you let us stay the night. I'll also make you a grilled cheese sandwich.

Friday, March 17, 2006

Fri, 17 Mar 2006 15:30:29 GMT

Happy March 17

Did you know that your local Irish pub is probably a sham? Yes, disillusioning.

"The Return of Patriarchy"

Wed, 15 Mar 2006 16:47:05 GMT

I can't help but find this cover story from the most recent edition of Foreign Policy compelling reading material. The author, Philip Longman, examines the societal phenomena of declining birth rates and makes connections to the usefulness of "patriarchy" that some will find disturbing and others, well, encouraging. I'll leave it to you to decide which camp you belong to.

http://foreignpolicy.com/story/cms.php?story_id=3376