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Tips Galore
by Paul Finnigan

“Congratulations and welcome aboard, Kevin!” exclaimed Brian Hickey, delivering a firm handshake as the two overlooked a smoky tavern.

“Beginner’s luck?” sighed Kevin.

“Luck of the Irish,” boasted Brian. “Kevin O’Herlihy! You were a shoe-in for sure. Mr. Muloine always hires waiters with good Irish names. Claims it’s good for business. Well lad, promised I’d show you the ropes. Just two large fridges, one holds the ales, the other the lagers. Only twenty tables in the place. Serve those ten to the right. I’ll handle the rest. Pay day at McGaren’s Foundry should make for a busy Saturday. Muloine’s pay isn’t great but you’ll make up for it in tips. Sure today there’ll be tips galore. Especially for you.”

“Oh” replied Kevin.

“Gavin Mahoney should be along shortly. Gavin’s the biggest tipper in the valley. That’s his chair over in the corner. Not reserved, but nobody dare sit it. Gavin’s a big rawboned farmer. Drinks Wexford lager off the shelf and straight from the bottle. He’ll always throw back a dozen or so. Speak of the devil, there’s Gavin now.”

Brian introduced the two and Kevin went about serving Gavin throughout the afternoon without receiving a single tip.

“Maybe he pays one large tip when leaving Kevin said to himself.”

Shortly thereafter Gavin headed towards the door.

“Nice meeting you, Mr. Mahoney,” uttered Kevin.

“Likewise,” smiled Gavin.

“Forgive me for being so forward, but I’d heard you’re the biggest tipper in the valley.

“Sure it’s all true lad,” chuckled Gavin. “But I only tip the bottle.”