Well ... I sort of know how much a tip ought to be. Usually, I think about how much to tip a few minutes before it's time to do the deed.
I do the math -- 15% or 18% -- but multiplication drifts out of my mind as I sort my instinctive feelings about the service.
I'm better off when my husband, John Cullum, handles the check. He's an over tipper. Quietly, inside myself, I grumble -- he wants the service person to realize that he's a good guy -- kind, generous, not rich, but doing okay financially.
Tipping a cabbie used to make me very nervous. Now that we can use credit cards in taxis, (after I re-check my wallet, making certain before I flag a taxi, that I have my credit card), I have to admit that I study the phone receptacle. (It has a picture on it that tells you how to insert the card in the slot, so that the signature area on the card faces the right way.)
I've researched tipping. Even now I bear in mind what my oldest sister taught me. She read the famous book by Emily Post, written in 1925, that people quote and continue to use.
If tipping makes you nervous, here's a link to EMILY POST SUGGESTS.
Who else to tip troubles me -- the postman, the guy in the parking lot who sweeps our steps, the boy who delivers our groceries? The store charges us a fee for delivery, but the actual kid who climbs the five flights -- I find out his name as I make friendly conversation, and wish him a nice day as he's racing down the steps heading for his next delivery job ....
Yep. I'd say I'm definitely an averagely GOOD, sensibly confident (not nervous) tipper. I feel good when I'm putting the groceries away.