Let me put it this way. If I walk up to a counter to place an order, often after standing in line several minutes, then walk over to a second counter, wait a few more minutes, then pick up my order, no one is getting a tip. Whether I’m getting a Half Caff No Whip Non Fat Venti Mocha from a “barrista” or a bacon burger with cheese tater tots from a cashier is immaterial.
Whiskey tango foxtrot, good buddy. Most people use “clerks” for baristas?
Convenience store clerks don’t give you free drinks, whereas baristas do. Well, they give me free drinks. I imagine it’s because I tip. It sure as hell can’t be for my looks.
I used to be a “barista,” although at my non-Starbucks place of work, we sure as hell didn’t use that name to describe ourselves. I often said that a sub-par monkey could have done my job. Then I went to a Starbucks, and found that they do even less than I did! Want a shot of espresso? Sure! Just push this button! At least we had to grind the espresso beans and then tamp it just right to get the perfect 0 shot. Having said that, I never though I deserved a tip from anybody (except for the stupid people coming in and ordering dry soy capps), but of course I appreciated it. Most people dropped their change in. One guy actually had the balls to take from my tip jar to buy a candy for his kid, just because he didn’t want to break his $10. Bastard.
I don’t go to coffee houses regularly, and when I do I only get coffee. I’m not tipping for pulling a lever and filling a cup with coffee.
I tip baristi the same way I got tipped when I was working at DQ: change, or a little extra if something special went on.
The range of labour is about the same, too: some orders you pull a lever and stand there for ten seconds with a comical expression; others require a balletic, high-speed circuit of five or six different machines that cost more than you.