Under the Salt
(A late dinner in the Alfama, in Lisbon. The bill has been sitting between them for six minutes and neither of them has touched it.)
Marguerite: I’ll get this one.
Winston: We’re splitting it. But before you do anything at all, tell me what you’re planning to leave on top.
Marguerite: Twenty percent.
Winston: Absolutely not.
Marguerite: Winston, twenty percent isn’t generous. It’s the floor. Where I grew up, if you leave less than twenty, you’re telling the man he did something wrong.
Winston: And where I grew up, if you leave twenty, he follows you out into the street to give it back, because he assumes you can’t read a bill.
Marguerite: That’s Sydney.
Winston: That’s Sydney. People are paid properly, so a tip is a small, strange insult. It says, here, I think you need this more than I do.
Marguerite: Nobody in history has been insulted by money.
Winston: Plenty of people have. You just weren’t in the room.
Marguerite: Fine. Although I’d point out that we’re not in Sydney, and we’re certainly not in Chicago.
Winston: No. We’re in a country where neither of us has the faintest idea what the rule is, and we’ve both been extremely confident about it for ten minutes.
Marguerite: Granted.
Winston: We’re arguing about somebody else’s culture, at his table, while he watches us do it.
Marguerite: Then let’s ask him.
Winston: He’ll say whatever’s polite. Anyone would.
Marguerite: He’ll say something, which is more than we’ve got.
(Marguerite raises a hand, and the waiter comes over.)
Marguerite: Sorry. We’re having an argument and it’s about you, so I apologize in advance. How much should we leave?
Waiter: Whatever you like. Really.
Winston: There. That’s the answer I’d have given.
Marguerite: No, honestly. If we left nothing at all, would that be rude?
Waiter: Nothing is normal. Most people round it up — two euros, five if they’ve stayed a long time. Twenty percent, nobody does. I’d assume you’d made a mistake and I’d come after you.
Winston: Thank you.
Marguerite: So it’s almost nothing. Fine. I can survive being wrong.
Waiter: There is one thing, though, if you do leave something. Leave it on the table, in cash. If you put it on the card, it goes to the restaurant, and then it depends entirely on the restaurant. On the table, it comes to us — to me, and the kitchen, and the boy who does the plates.
Marguerite: Nobody has ever told me that.
Waiter: Nobody asks me that. Take your time with the card.
(The waiter goes back towards the bar.)
Winston: Marguerite. Have you got a five?
Marguerite: You said tipping was an insult.
Winston: I said tipping a stranger twenty percent to prove I’m a decent human being was an insult. This is different. This one actually arrives somewhere.
Marguerite: You’ve reversed your entire position in ninety seconds.
Winston: I’ve changed the number. What I’ve learned is where it goes, which is the thing neither of us was arguing about.
Marguerite: Here. Five, and two from you.
Winston: Put it under the salt, or we’ve learned nothing.