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Christy Fantz
Christy Fantz

Dear Christy,

My boyfriend is a total jerk to servers and bartenders. He always under tips and he treats them like they’re on a lower level than him, just because he has an office job. I’ve worked in restaurants before and it bothers me. How can I make him tip more?

—For the love of service

Just the tip:

Not cool, pal.

By now — besides your grandpa and Chevy Chase* — we all know that when we dine out, we pay for the product and the service.

This isn’t Europe, Fancy Office Boy.

(And come on, Europe. An “insult” to tip? Dumb. If I got a tip working over yonder that big ol’ salt pond, and they “insulted” me with a wad of cash, they’d get a nice tip in their pants. Insult away, ye accented pals.)

We all go out to restaurants, bars, coffee shops, sandwich spots. If you’re too cheap to tip, then make your own damn sandwich. Every job has its day, but those in customer service have to wear a Best Friend smile and a Let’s High-Five attitude.

Rule: Always tip 20 percent, after tax. Don’t you roll your eyes at me. If the service deems more, then feel free to make it rain. But don’t tip less than 20 percent. If you can’t factor that into your budget, then go eat at McDonald’s.

If you aren’t friends with anyone in the service industry, make one, then ask to see their paycheck. Laugh and then cry with them.

Industry aside, your boyfriend shouldn’t be demeaning to anyone. You need to chat with Office Boy. If he doesn’t like the product, have him talk to a manager.

If he isn’t open to change, well, you can always toss extra cash on the table when the valet’s pulling his Fancy Office Car around. (Tip-free, obviously.)

It’s not that hard to be nice to people, people. Just try it.

I’m going to go sew a poem into a throw pillow for the world. But first let’s all get high.

Uh. Five.

*Rumors told me he (allegedly) didn’t tip while dining and drinking out while in Denver for the DNC in 2008. The rumors may have been drunk, but who wasn’t.

Dear Christy,

I think my girlfriend has a dead tooth. To quote Frank Reynolds (“It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia”), her breath smells like she “nibbled on little pieces of shit.” But she’s scared of the dentist. I’m screwed aren’t I?

—Dragon breath

Poop mouth:

There’s nothing wrong with being scared of the dentist. There is, although, something wrong with kissing a steaming hot Dumpster of dog poop.

First of all, you need to tell her about this in a gentle way. Us lassies get offended easily and it may not go well if you tell her that her mouth smells like a dog’s ass. Don’t avoid it, she’s probably already wondering why you don’t kiss her anymore. (Girls.) Just be gentle.

Then: Be a supportive boyfriend. Help her make a dentist appointment, go with her, hold her hand and get her through it. In the end, it will be more healthy for your lady’s general health (imagine what she’s swallowing) and now you won’t have to dip your junk in mouthwash after she bobs on your knob (what is she swallowing?).

Now there’s a throw pillow for you.

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