Real Life Adventures (2/5/10)

Earlier this week, I ventured back to my apartment to return my keys and allow the gas company access to the meter. While I waited for the meter reader to show, I took in one last breakfast at the neighborhood diner, a 24-hour joint one block north of my old building. After sharing a hearty meal with my fiance, I walked up to the register to pay the bill. I left a tip of just over $3.50, bringing the total to $20 even. The cashier who rang me up said “nice tip” as I handed her the receipt. I couldn’t tell if she was being genuine or sarcastic. Neither response made a whole lot of sense to me at the time, since the tip didn’t strike me as being abnormally high or low. I guess I’ll never know, now that I’m living in a new neighborhood and will be ordering my pancakes and bacon at a new diner.

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