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Money For Nothing – Part 2

Oh Goody Another Tip Jar

Tip Jar

What the hell’s with the tip jars, those ever present containers that are constantly soliciting for funds on counter tops from coast to coast. In the last few years these little beggars have sprung up everywhere. I blame coffee vendors. They clearly need to pay their employees more money and stop asking us to subsidize their wages.

The price of a cup of coffee has risen faster then a helium balloon. We obviously like and want our designer coffee, and are willing to pay for it. That’s fine, but tips are not gratuities for simply doing your job. They are extra remuneration to show appreciation for providing exemplary service. In a coffee shop I have to wait in line, decide and order with no guidance or suggestions from the staff. I have to pay and tip when I order, before I even know if the product is any good or my order is correct or how long I will have to wait to get it. Then I generally have to stand around until it’s done, get my own lid, straw, napkin, sugar and cheap wooden stirrer, bring it all to the table myself and bus the table when I’m finished. Damn, I almost feel like I should come back after hours to empty the trash and mop the floor. What’s the tip for? Smiling at me. Making the coffee. I know what you’re thinking, What’s with the bitch? Just don’t tip. I’m sure your right, but there is clearly pressure to tip. The placement of the evil little tip jar. The cute little “My College Loan Thanks You” sign with the little stars and smily faces. The slightly pleading look in the cashier’s eyes. The blank tip line on the credit card slip. The cashier’s awareness of who tips and who doesn’t. Why not just put a forlorn looking panhandler next to the cash register. “Thanks A Latte”.

What really set me off was when I saw a tip jar in the dry cleaners the other day. The dry cleaners! Really?? I even saw one at a flea market yesterday. What’s next, Home Depot? The DMV?

No Tipping Please

Run Forrest Run

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I’m pretty sure that I’m in the heart of the exercise universe.

Southern California is a place where everyone seems to be moving. Constantly. They’re running, jogging and marathon training, both with and without baby carriers. They’re biking, road, mountain, unicycle, tandem, recumbent, and cruisers, all with and without baby carriers. Walking, speed and regular, again with and without baby carriers. Trail hiking. Surfing, parasurfing, windsurfing, body surfing and boogie boarding. Skateboarding and skating, both regular and inline. There are pilate studios, yoga studios, fitness studios, spinning studios, health clubs and gyms. Swimming, pool and ocean. Wind gliders and, of course, driving. Millions of them are driving. All the time. Now technically driving isn’t exercise, but with the aggressiveness and anxiety level applied to it here it will certainly burn off a few calories.

Beach Music v.2

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Del Mar Beach Dog Park

Well, one thing that has definitely changed is that dogs are prohibited on almost all Southern California beaches. We did manage to locate the Del Mar Beach Dog Park. It’s a great little corner of beach at the border between Del Mar and Solana Beach, filled with whacky K9s of every size and description and their equally whacky owners.

Emma is 14 now so bringing her to the dog park was a somewhat bittersweet experience. A little like taking your elderly Grandmother to an amusement park. She’s glad to be out of the house but why the hell are all these crazy ill mannered children running around and why do they keep sniffing my butt. Despite the fact that Emma took a sort of wall flower approach to the festivities and was more of an observer to all the frantic running around, she did brighten up and managed to carefully inspect every grain of sand.