Watch who you overtip

Back from Arizona...and thankful for it, even if the temperature is 65 degrees colder here. That's what I get for making fun of Ellen suffering in the cold while I flaunt my break from winter. Picture me in a convertible Corvette driven by a former drag racer and you may begin to see why. Don't get me wrong, I consider Cory a great friend and someone welcome in our home at any time, but I don't know that I'll ride with him again. Remind me to tell you about it next time I see you, but it was a lot of sunshine punctuated by moments of sheer terror. He's 6'3" and 270 lbs. You know my size, so you can imagine how tightly wedged into that corvette we were. I looked at us objectively, considered how we might look to others and decided that we would not have to be concerned about attracting hordes of ladies, or even one for that matter. Anyway, one embarrassing moment for me occurred at an upscale restaurant that we and our customer chose for dinner. I walked into the restroom and saw one of my great pet peeves, a washroom attendant. It may be petty, but I absolutely loathe having to tip to do my business. I selected the furthest urinal and in that seclusion, examined my cash. All of the other hands you pay when you travel had stripped me of dollar bills. The smallest I had was a five. With a deep sigh, knowing it was that or nothing, I tossed it into his basket, washed my hands and walked quickly away with a grunt when he said thank you. My embarrassment came on the second visit. I had apparently deeply affected the guy, because he fell all over himself to help me. The urinals were occupied, but rather than see me wait for even a moment, he jumped to a stall, ripped open the door, stuck his head in, then in broken English and with a big smile, pointed me toward it. I wondered what might have happened if it had been occupied? I really think he would have pulled the guy off, considering his attitude. After I finished and emerged to wash my hands, he had another big smile and a towel draped over his forearm like a wine steward. With a big circlular motion and flourish, he served me the towel. The other users were looking at me with a puzzled look on their face, probably wondering if I was someone important. A little red faced at the attention, I left quickly, never to return.