probably a couple of months ago (when things were busy and blog-posting time was in short supply) my parents and younger sister came to Houston.
we all went out to eat that night at Houston's, one of our favorite restaurants in the area.
all together we numbered just five people.
our waiter provided us with adequate service; waters were refilled, ketchup was provided upon request.
when the check was presented, however, it was evident that the waiter believed strongly in the quality of his labors relative to our dining experience.
the waiter believed in himself so much that he wrote in an 18% tip and the total due on the receipt, as if the review of his service was a foregone conclusion.
unless Jesus, Buddha, and Mohammed were sitting at our table in ghost form our group did not meet the typical 'large-party' status that usually endures an automatic gratuity.
maybe the waiter knew that Buddha is a notoriously cheap tipper (and he always passes it off like 'hey tips are just a fleeting material possession, the desire of which you need to relinquish". pfffffft)