Today at work I took part in a (sort of) social experiment. This morning while attempting to make my curly mess of hair look like one of the suave Mexicans I work with, I discovered that when I brush my hair straight back I look like a serial killer. Instead of styling my coiffe to the normal style, I kept the I’m-going-to-kill-you look in order to see if diner’s tipping habits are influenced by fear.
Monday night I made $125, $40 was in credit card tips.
Tonight I made $124, $40 was in credit card tips.
I guess people are used to scary goons serving them hot bowls of Spaghetti Bolognese.
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