Tipping Point

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I recently read an article about Jay-Z and Lance Bass leaving good tips.  They weren't together…that would be an entirely different twist.  Jay-Z recently left a waiter in NYC a $500 tip, and while in Miami, Lance Bass left his server $400.  If it was a male server I'm assuming he even slipped him a second tip. Back before I landed a borderline-amazing gig on a mid-level cable network, I waitressed my ass off.  Now celebrities leave huge tips, and people like Matt Damon and George Clooney date waitresses and take them on lovely vacations.  Apparently I was a waitress at the wrong time. I never received hundreds of dollars, nor did any movie stars ever come in and whisk me away on their yacht. The biggest tip I ever received was a quarter of a pastrami sandwich and a half-eaten pickle.  It was delicious, but it was not helpful in paying my rent.  And the hottest guy that asked me out was Jorge, the line cook.  His scooter was certainly no yacht, but at least he was a gentle lover.