Scene: Hoppy’s in East Sac. Two guys, watching the ballgame, discussing the tip.
“I just do what my mom always said, and double the sale tax,” says Guy No. 1. Guy No. 2 nods, and Guy No. 1 adds, “Then, I adjust the amount upward according on the rackage on the waitress.”
At the table next, dining on burgers and kettle chips, I shoot my brother a dirty look. He has a knowing smirk on his face.
“What did I do?” he protests.