NICE GUY EDDIE Okay, everybody cough up green for the little lady. Everybody whips out a buck, and throws it on the table. Everybody, that is, except Mr. Pink.
NICE GUY EDDIE C'mon, throw in a buck.
MR. PINK Uh-uh. I don't tip.
NICE GUY EDDIE Whaddaya mean you don't tip?
MR. PINK I don't believe in it.
NICE GUY EDDIE You don't believe in tipping?
MR. BLONDE (laughing) I love this kid, he's a madman, this guy.
MR. WHITE Do you have any idea what these ladies make? They make S#%T.
MR. PINK Don't give me that. She don't make enough money, she can quit. Everybody laughs.
NICE GUY EDDIE I don't even know a Jew who'd have the balls to say that. So let's get this straight. You never ever tip?
MR. PINK I don't tip because society says I gotta. I tip when somebody deserves a tip. When somebody really puts forth an effort, they deserve a little something extra. But this tipping automatically, that S---'s for the birds. As far as I'm concerned, they're just doin their job.
MR. BLUE Our girl was nice.
MR. PINK Our girl was okay. She didn't do anything special.
MR. BLUE What's something special, take ya in the kitchen and suck your D---? They all laugh.
NICE GUY EDDIE I'd go over twelve percent for that.
MR. PINK Look, I ordered coffee. Now we've been here a long F#&%N time, and she's only filled my cup three times. When I order coffee, I want it filled six times.
MR. WHITE What if she's too busy?
MR. PINK The words "too busy" shouldn't be in a waitress's vocabulary.
NICE GUY EDDIE Excuse me, Mr. White, but the last thing you need is another cup of coffee. They all laugh.
MR. PINK These ladies aren't starvin to death. They make minimum wage. When I worked for minimum wage, I wasn't lucky enough to have a job that society deemed tipworthy.
NICE GUY EDDIE Ahh, now we're getting down to it. It's not just that he's a cheap bastard—
MR. ORANGE --It is that too—
NICE GUY EDDIE --It is that too. But it's also he couldn't get a waiter job. You talk like a pissed off dishwasher: "F--- those C$%#S and their F#&%G tips."
MR. BLUE So you don't care that they're counting on your tip to live? Mr. White rubs two of his fingers together.
MR. PINK Do you know what this is? It's the world's smallest violin, playing just for the waitresses.
MR. WHITE You don't have any idea what you're talking about. These people bust their ARSE. This is a hard job.
MR. PINK So's working at McDonald's, but you don't feel the need to tip them. They're servin ya food, you should tip em. But no, society says tip these guys over here, but not those guys over there. That's bullS---.
MR. ORANGE They work harder than the kids at McDonald's.
MR. PINK Oh yeah, I don't see them cleaning fryers.
MR. BROWN These people are taxed on the tips they make. When you stiff 'em, you cost them money.
MR. WHITE Waitressing is the number one occupation for female non-college graduates in this country. It's the one job basically any woman can get, and make a living on. The reason is because of tips.
MR. PINK F--- all that. They all laugh.
MR. PINK Hey, I'm very sorry that the government taxes their tips. That's f F#&%D up. But that ain't my fault. it would appear that waitresses are just one of the many groups the government F---s in the ARSE on a regular basis. You show me a paper says the government shouldn't do that, I'll sign it. Put it to a vote, I'll vote for it. But what I won't do is play ball. And this non- college bullS--- you're telling me, I got two words for that: "Learn to F#&%N type." Cause if you're expecting me to help out with the rent, you're in for a big F#&%N surprise.
MR. ORANGE He's convinced me. Give me my dollar back. Everybody laughs. Joe's comes back to the table.
JOE Okay ramblers, let's get to rambling. Wait a minute, who didn't throw in?
MR. ORANGE Mr. Pink.
JOE (to Mr. Orange) Mr. Pink? (to Mr. Pink) Why?
MR. ORANGE He don't tip.
JOE (to Mr. Orange) He don't tip? (to Mr. Pink) You don't tip? Why?
MR. ORANGE He don't believe in it.
JOE (to Mr. Orange) He don't believe in it? (to Mr. White) You don't believe in it?
MR. ORANGE Nope.
JOE (to Mr. Orange) Shut up! (to Mr. Pink) Cough up the buck, ya cheap bastard, I paid for your godd--- breakfast.
MR. PINK Because you paid for the breakfast, I'm gonna tip. Normally I wouldn't.
JOE Whatever. Just throw in your dollar, and let's move. (to Mr. WHITE) See what I'm dealing with here. Infants. I'm F#&%N dealin with infants.
dialog from Quentin Tarantino's
R E S E R V O I R D O G S