“I’m sure there are,” she said.

“Yeah,” Cody said, “Like Fruity Pebbles.”

What would that goal look like if you spent 30 minutes a day on it?

Just 30 minutes. Over the course of a year that adds up to over seven and a half days. Over a week of completely uninterrupted work. 182.5 hours. That’s a lot of production when focused on one thing.

For me, it’s writing. What is it for you?

Every February 1st: “Well crap.”

I’ve learned not to do New Year’s resolutions. Usually when they are drafted, I’m filled with so much hope. I’m generally coming off a few days rest between Christmas and New Year’s day. I’m optimistic the next year will be different.

I fail to ask why it will be different. It won’t be different on its own. You see, and this may come as a bit of a shock, there is nothing magical about January. Nothing.

That’s why New Year’s resolutions never work. We don’t take steps ahead of time and plan to do the things required to be different. 2011 was very different for me because I had a plan well before January 1st. This year is the same. I have some lofty goals for 2012. I started working on those goals months ago.

Am I going to lose weight this year? Yes.

Am I going to make more money this year? Yes.

Am I going to spend more time with my family this year? Yes.

But only because these are more than just goals. These are fully realized plans I’ve been working on for a while. I figure if you aren’t several steps down the road to completing your plan by January 1st, it probably won’t be any different by December 31st.

But maybe that’s just me. Maybe everyone else always achieves their New Year’s resolutions…

We were really blessed in 2011. I’m thankful for that and hope 2012 will be just as much fun.

My prayer for you is that however 2011 went, the next year will be even better.

Waiting and tapping.

Everyone is silently tapping away on a phone. Reading. Sending email. Hurling ill-tempered birds to their death. I’m even writing this on my phone.

What did we ever do before our brains could be constantly engaged? What did we do in those moments between moments? Waiting in the doctor’s office. Waiting on food to arrive. What happened back when our brains were forced to just relax for a moment or focus on something other than this glowing thing in our hands?

I wonder about the effect these things have on our brain because much of what I do comes from some deep recess of my mind, and it’s kind of mysterious. I’d hate to do anything that would mess with that. Creativity is not math. It is not this quantifiable thing that is easy to understand on paper. People present me with problems and I design solutions. Most of the solutions come to me at odd times in odd places. Usually it’s not while I’m sitting and thinking about the problem.

How many things am I missing by not letting my brain just rest and disengage in those moments between moments? Could my phone, this vaunted scion of productivity, actually be hurting my creative output?

“What rumor?”

“The rumor is that parents buy all the presents and put them out. Santa is just a homeless man parents hire to come in and eat the cookies on Christmas night. Is that true?”

Watch it until the end.

Two weeks ago I upgraded from Creative Suite 3 to Creative Suite 5.5. That was an $840 upgrade. I ordered the boxed version. Unfortunately when you order that, you don’t get the serial numbers until they arrive. Of course, my 30-day trial of the new software had just expired that day. So basically I would be without the main software I use for a few days. That’s not possible with our schedule right now.

So I call Adobe customer support, conveniently located in another country, and asked if I could cancel that order and just order the download version to get the serial number immediately.

“Of course,” the guy says, “The old order is canceled, was not charged to your account and now you may order the new one.”

So I order the download copy. Fast forward a day later and I get an email to let me know my boxed copy had shipped. I check my account and sure enough I have been charged $840 twice. I’m not sure about you, but that’s a little more than inconvenient for me.

I call Adobe support again, also, still conveniently located in another country.

“Sorry, sir, I canceled it in one of our systems, but not both, so it went through anyway.”

“Obviously,” I say, trying to keep my irritation under control, “But, I’d like my money back now.”

“Sorry, sir, you have to wait until you get the boxed copy, call us back with the serial number so we can cancel it, then wait 3-5 days.”

“That’s unacceptable,” I say, “I need the money back now. You guys screwed up and I shouldn’t have to pay for it.”

“I can upgrade this to a Tier 2 support status and you’ll get a call from a Tier 2 representative. They might be able to help.”

“Fine.”

Fast forward a few hours. The phone rings. “Hello, sir. This call is to let you know your case has been escalated to a Tier 2 level and you will receive a call tomorrow morning from a representative.”

“Seriously?” I ask.

“Yes, sir.”

“Fine.”

Fast forward to the next morning. No call.

Fast forward to the next afternoon. The box arrives. I call with the serial number.

“Thanks for the call, sir. Your refund will now be expedited in 3 to 5 days.”

I wait 7 business days. Still no refund. I call back today.

“Sorry sir, we forgot to generate a something something report. We’re doing that now and you will get your refund in 3 to 5 days.”

“Since you guys screwed up again, I’d like it faster. Let me speak with your boss.”

Fast forward another 20 minutes.

“Hi, I’m a supervisor.”

“Hi, I’d like my refund faster than 3 to 5 days.”

“3 to 5 days? We can only do 5 to 7 days.”

“Wait, what? But the last guy said 3 to 5 days.”

“Did he give you a 100% guarantee?”

“What the hell is wrong with your company?”

“Nothing, sir, I assure you.”

“Must just be the people then.”

So I sit on hold for hours now through this process. My blood pressure is through the roof every time I speak with them. I don’t normally cuss or yell. I’ve cussed and yelled. And I still don’t have my $840.

I guess we will see if it ever happens.

UPDATE: This was e-mailed to me letting me know they had closed my case (for the third time): “Your credit card will be refunded within ten business days. Your issuing bank often requires an additional two to three weeks to apply the credit to your account.”

Really?

“What?” I asked.

“You and Mom are the best parents.”

“That’s sweet. Thank you.”

“Yeah,” he continued, “You get us the best birthday presents….and Christmas presents.”

“Oh,” I said, “So if we didn’t get you any of those presents would we still be the best parents?”

He gave me a look like I was talking crazy, then he pondered it for a moment. “Well,” he said finally, “If that happened, you’d be just kind of in the middle.”

Quality parenting can, apparently, be purchased.

“Seven would make me happy,” I said, “But eight at the absolute latest. Worst case scenario, we have to leave by eight. If one of the kids spontaneously bursts into flames and the other two are running around naked, we still leave by eight.”

“Flames, huh?”

“Flames. Eight ‘o clock.”

“Okay.”

This reminds me of all the businesses in the world that brag about being the best quality. Only about 10% of those really are best quality. The other 90% are either ignorant or just plain lying about it.

You shouldn’t have to say you’re the best quality. It should just be obvious to everyone who ever deals with you.

We have an iPad but not an iPad 2. Do you recommend upgrading or do the new features not justify the cost? — Sarah

For me, the answer is no.* We own an original iPad. I’ve been contemplating getting another for my own personal use. Ours is for the family, which means every time I pick it up, I find jelly or some such on it. I’d really rather have my own. That being said, I’m holding out for an iPad 3.

I’ve spent time with the iPad 2 and it’s a very impressive device. Much lighter than the original, and noticeably snappier. Unfortunately other than that, there wasn’t much that I’d place in the “have to have” category if we’re talking upgrade. I’m sure FaceTime is nice, but I have it on my phone and have used it maybe twice.

Now, if you don’t have a tablet at all, of course, go iPad 2. As far as an upgrade though, it just wasn’t compelling enough for me.

*I guess it also depends on what kind of person you are when it comes to technology. You wouldn’t know it by the amount of Apple techno-crap I own, but I’m not usually the “gotta-have-it-on-launch-day guy.” I usually buy the most expensive computer I can and then use it for four or five years. I never upgrade software if I don’t have to. I get a new iPhone every couple of years, but usually don’t feel the itch to upgrade yearly. Overall, I’d say I’m very patient when it comes to buying new technology. Some people aren’t like that, so factor your personality into your upgrade decision.

The Bucs’ linebacker coach, Joe Baker, admitted he was “a little skeptical” when the team started using iPads. His concerns were rooted in a past experience, when another team he worked for started using laptops. At the time, he said, it was a poor integration of technology and the team’s needs. Today, he admits things have changed.

“To have all that information at your fingertips accessible and convenient,” said Baker. “It’s a godsend.”

The form factor and user interface of the iPad are just so intuitive it has opened doors and is being used in ways a laptop never could. The ease-of-use on an iPad can never be discounted. The information the team needs is literally at their fingertips.

Quote via CNN.

Last year around this time I took a few months off from posting on Twitter and Facebook. It was so nice. I found the desire to write more long-form entries here on the blog and generally just felt more relaxed. It was like taking a breather after running for hours. I discovered that I had begun to think in 140-character snippets. Everything that I saw or experienced, my brain dutifully composed in my head as a tweet. My fingers would then, also dutifully, type that message into Twitter. It’s annoying, not only in my head, but probably to the world that reads those sometimes inane tweets.

As a result of that time away, I’ve used Twitter far, far less in 2011. Coincidentally, we’ve done an order of magnitude more business this year than last. Interesting.

As my stress level has steadily risen I decided to take the last few months off again. One week into that sabbatical, I noticed something different this time. I’m training my brain to think long form again, but I also miss Twitter a bit in one way: it’s actually useful. Several times I’ve wanted to ask a question on Twitter and stopped myself. But there are sometimes friendly people out there who like answering questions.

As with everything, it’s all about balance. I guess there’s nothing wrong with using Twitter for genuinely useful communication. I can use it when I need it. So now “taking off” means not posting every thought I ever have. It’s refreshing, and after just one week, I’ve found a renewed desire to write again. For a good chunk of the year I figured my not writing was because of having too much going on creatively. In the past week I’ve actually had to do more creative work than usual and yet still feel the desire to write. I still subscribe to the theory that I only have so many well-written words to give in a day. If I give a large portion of those to Twitter and Facebook, I rob my other endeavors.

It makes me wonder if I’ll use tools like Twitter even less next year. Probably so. I need to treat it as just that, a tool, and not a place for everything that sails between my ears.

If you’re not already using Pinterest, you probably should be. I’ve started using it as an archive for all the interesting things (especially creative) that I find on the internet. Here’s the things that have caught my attention.

Always with the wait. Arby’s always delivers decent food (for fast food) at a slightly high-end price (again, for fast food) but by the time I’m through the drive-thru I’m usually so irritated about the wait I don’t even want the food anymore. It happens every time at every Arby’s I’ve ever been to. Obviously it can’t be fixed or they would. The delay is because they put together all the food fresh (once again, for fast food) when you order it. I guess if they just pre-made everything and left it under hot lamps I’d be angry it wasn’t fresh.

So how do you fix a problem for a customer who won’t be happy either way?

Good writing.

On a recent trip (by myself) I decided Arby’s was what my rumbling stomach was asking for. I pulled up and ordered (By the way, why can’t we list the main deals on the menu? I hate having to ask if you still have something.) and was about the pull through. The lady on the other side of the worst-speaker-ever-conceived-by-man gave me my total. I was about to pull forward when she threw one last line at me.

“Give us a few minutes while we make your order fresh for you.”

The phrase bounced around in my head for a few seconds as I pulled around. “They are making my food fresh,” I thought. I pulled up to the window and handed her my card. I then pulled up my e-mail on my phone and proceeded to return a few messages. A few minutes later I looked up from my phone and that old impatience began to well up inside me. “I want my roast beef!” it said loudly. Then another voice quietly protested, “But they’re making it fresh for you. That takes time.”

And my anger disappeared. With one friendly, well-written line, they managed to diffuse my annoyance. Amazing. Each time in the ten minute wait I would start to get impatient, the line would do its job and quell the anger.

I know the girl, nice though she was, didn’t come up with that turn of phrase on her own. No, somewhere in the bowels of Arby’s HQ, they collect data about customer wait times and subsequent complaints. Eventually the complaints reached a level that couldn’t be ignored. They looked at the process and discovered they couldn’t speed it up if they still wanted to make the food fresh. They would rather be known as being slow than serving stale food. Instead, someone in the organization handed the problem off to their ad agency.

And this is the beauty of ad agencies. We don’t just create ads. We use creativity to solve business problems. “We have an image issue,” Mr. Arby said, “We’re known as being really slow.”

“Let us see what we can come up with,” Mr. Ad Agency responded. He then handed the problem off to the Arby’s creative group. Some smart writer in that group realized that you have to explain the benefits of the wait to sell it to people. After much thinking, strategizing, brainstorming and concepting (all of which, by the way, looks like doing absolutely nothing), that great line was born. “Give us a few minutes while we make your order fresh for you.” I’m sure it ended up being a minor line item on a huge bill. “Drive-thru copywriting, four hours, $500.”

And yet how much good will that $500 line do them? When you consider the millions of customers Arby’s sees each year, I’m guessing a lot. If even a fraction of those customers returned again because they didn’t mind the wait anymore, it would yield millions in revenue. All from one well-written line.

The moral of the story: Don’t make people wait for fresh roast beef. If you have to, hire a smart writer.

Steve Jobs changed the world. I don’t think that can be effectively argued against. The products Apple has introduced in its history have revolutionized the way we create, communicate, and consume.

Every bit of that change was because of an undying pursuit of excellence. That pursuit means attention to every detail. That pursuit means skipping shortcuts. That pursuit means having a vision for how great things can be. That pursuit means focusing on what’s best for the customer, even if they don’t know it’s best yet.

Apple has always had a laser focus on creating the best user experience. “Everything just works” has been their mantra. In an industry of over-complicated products and techno-babble, Apple’s approach is a breath of fresh air. Many have tried the same approach, but cut too many corners to make it work.

People ask me a lot why I use Apple products so much. I’ve never been one to evangelize for the company. If you don’t want to use the products, then don’t. It doesn’t effect me. But I know a lot of people that try them, and like them for the same reason I do. They get out of the way. I don’t spend my day tripping over clunky user interfaces or software that constantly crashes. My computers and phones get out of my way and allow me to do what I need to do.

In my case that thing I need to do is creating. I have no trouble admitting that my business would not exist in its current form if not for Apple. Because I don’t spend my days dealing with tech issues, I am able to create more than a single person should really be able to. Because of that I can provide for my family and create work that my clients love. I spend my days doing the same thing Apple does. I think about the people involved. I try to make their experience perfect. I obsess over detail. This year I had some stickers made and I apply them to the box of every printed job that goes out. They read: “Designed and printed with an obsession for detail.”

Jobs’ legacy is excellence.

It’s the excellence of Apple’s products.

It’s the excellence of the things we create with those products.

What a legacy to leave.

Steve Jobs 1955-2011

But it does to him.

Every chance he has to play matters to him. He takes the weight of the world on his shoulders. A strikeout to him is devastating. It doesn’t seem to matter how hard we try to convince him that he’s doing well. And trust me, we’ve been trying.

Tonight, during batting practice, the coach decided to try a different stance for him. It worked wonders for his hitting. The first time up he hits a single and then made it home a few plays later. He started the season batting .500 but has since dropped a little. It was nice to see him more confident at the plate.

Unfortunately the rest of the team just wasn’t hitting tonight. It happens sometimes. Baseball teams can just hit strikeout slumps. Tonight was that night for us. If we scored five runs in the final inning, we would tie the game up. Conner was due up to bat third in the inning. I was nervous about the potential last out being in his hands.

Jace, who’s having a rough night, is the first kid up and strikes out.

One out.

The second kid up, Bryce, take a few pitches then hits a great shot and makes it to first base.

One out, runner at first.

Then comes Conner. I want him to get a hit so he can end the game on a high note. He takes the first two pitches. He has three pitches left and the coach tells him to swing at all of them. Two more pitches, two more swings, two more strikes. Last pitch. He has to swing no matter what.

I watched as the ball left the pitcher’s hand. Conner began to turn his hips and bring the bat around. It connected perfectly and was driven down the third base line. Conner ran as I prayed it would stay fair.

It did. One out, runners at first and second.

Dane walks to the plate. Another rough night, another strike out.

Two outs, runners at first and second.

Here comes Charlie. Charlie can get some good hits, and he does. He smashes the ball into shallow right field. He is safe at first. Conner is safe at second but it looks like Bryce might be thrown out at third. The throw comes in high and goes over the third baseman’s head.

The coach waves Bryce home and tells Conner to take third. Conner runs harder than I’ve ever seen him run. He kicks up dirt as he goes. The left fielder picks up the ball and turns to throw it to third. It’s going to be close. Conner’s extra burst of speed from deep down drives his legs and, almost in slow motion, he runs for the bag as the ball comes in.

His left foot touches the bag a second before the third baseman catches the ball.

He’s safe!

The crowd roars.

His right foot goes past the bag and lands on the dirt.

His left foot follows off the base.

The third baseman tags him for the final out after he leaves the base.

In unison, the crowd’s cheer turns into a long, disappointed “aaawwwww.”

Conner looks around not knowing what happened, but the coach’s angry reaction tells him it was bad. He had never been in that situation and didn’t know you had to stay on the base or you could be tagged out. Now he knows. He also knows that was the final out of the game.

He breaks down in tears when he realizes what he did.

I want to cry for him.

Two great hits for the game and all he’ll remember is the heartbreak at third base.

We spend a decent amount of money at Marco’s Pizza in Leander. We always get the same deal. A big square pizza, cheese sticks and a Coke for $15. Anywhere from two to six times a month we make the call and go pick up the food. It’s always been good.

Tonight I call and tell them I’d like the “Big Square Deal” (see, we order enough to know the marketing name of the deal).

“Sure,” the voice on the other side of the phone says, “We still have that deal.”

“Great,” I say, “I’d like pepperoni.”

“Okay,” the voice says, “You know what, hang on a second.”

I wait patiently for a few seconds.

The voice comes back. “My manager says I need a coupon for that deal now.”

“Okay,” I say. “Well, we buy this deal a lot. Any chance we could have it again this once? I don’t have a coupon.”

“Nope,” the voice says, “My manager says I have to have a coupon.”

“Okay.” I think for a moment and then decide I’m done. “Tell your manager he lost my business. Have a good day.”

The manager seems to have forgotten that between their location and my house are almost a dozen other pizza joints. That’s a lot of more convenient choices.

And look, I’m not even asking for free pizza here. I would have gladly accepted, “Sir, I’ll give you the deal this time, but next time I need the coupon.” Or even, “We are no longer offering that deal at all.” In either case I would have continued to give them my business. But making a good customer jump through the coupon stupidity hoop to get a current offer is just too much when there are so many other choice out there.

If someone shows up at my business and wants to give me money, I’m going to do everything I can to make that transaction happen, including saying “don’t worry about the stupid coupon.”

Marco’s gave me an excuse to stop paying them.

I doesn’t take much these days. All businesses would do well to remember that.

This means as soon as the final presents are open they are consumed with the Lego catalog, planning out their next purchases. This goes on for days because with our schedule it will probably be a while before we haul them to the Lego store.

Through the course of these days I hear snippets of conversations from the two boys about the sets they want and the amount of money they have to spend. It’s like a constant background noise in my life. During one of these snippets, I hear Cody say he found $10 and needs to put it in his wallet. My brain, consumed with a thousand other things, just assumed it was $10 he already had but lost at some point. My brain dutifully filed that fact away somewhere so I didn’t have to really focus on it.

It wasn’t until later that evening that it came up again. I walked into my office and saw my wallet laying there. A five dollar bill was sticking out at an odd angle. I don’t normally carry much, if any, cash on me but I remembered I had a ten and a five. Sadly, only the five was still in my wallet. My brain (I’m still amazed at how it works) immediately dredged up the memory of Cody saying he “found $10″.

I went to him and asked if he had stolen it out of my wallet. After a few weak denials, he admitted it. He wanted as much money as he could get before we went to the Lego store. Here’s the really sad thing, though. Every time we go to the Lego store, they find a set that’s just a little more expensive than what they have. Every time, I buy it for them and cover the extra cost myself. Every time. But he didn’t trust me. He didn’t realize that I love seeing their eyes light up when I do things for them. He didn’t realize that it brings me joy to do that. He didn’t trust that I would make sure it was an amazing trip to the Lego store. So he took matters into his own hands. That path led to sin and punishment and away from the joy I had prepared for him.

It’s times like this that I picture God with a look of satisfaction on his face. My kids are here as much to teach me lessons as anything else. You see, the “thousand other things” my mind was focused on that weekend was actually just one big thing. I was worried about my business. Why? I’m really not sure to be honest. We’ve had an amazing year and I have enough work lined up to last me a while and new clients signing on. But, none of those projects is of the “hey, that’s an entire month’s salary in one project” type. We’ve been very blessed to have a lot of those this year. Suddenly, for the first month I didn’t have anything like that on the books. Just your run-of-the-mill “string these all together and we make a great living” type projects.

Was that really cause to freak out and worry? No. The fact is I didn’t trust God to take care of me. We’ve had some rough years and the shadow of those years always seems to be at the periphery of my vision. I fear that business will dry up and we’ll be back to worrying about paying bills. The fact is, God has provided, even in the lean years. He stayed close with us and gave us exactly what we needed at the time. I’ve produced the same high-quality work for years but people are finally starting to really notice. That will continue for as long as God wants it to and I have to trust that he knows best.

Like Cody stealing $10 to take care of his wants, I steal time. Any time spent worrying is a demonstration that I don’t trust God as I should. Worrying steals quality time from my family and, ironically, from my business itself. When I’m worried I don’t function in any area like I should.

I need to acknowledge that God wants nothing but my joy in him. He has me on a path to experience that, either through good times or bad. I just need to trust in that. And Cody needs to know that I love him (and Legos) and will always do what I can to bring him joy.

This post in particular was quite nice.

For the first time this season it looks like the Rangers can actually come back late in a game to win. It seems like this entire season if they get down by a few runs it’s over. Now in the past week they’ve done it several times.

The comeback is my favorite brand of baseball. Sure it’s a blast when your team wins 20 to 5, but I would argue the comeback is a more exciting to watch. The problem is, utter disappointment is also a possibility if they can’t complete the comeback.

Up until last week, an opponent’s lead late in the game, no matter how small, seemed an insurmountable wall. Now we’re getting key hits when we need them and it feels good. This is fun baseball to watch.

Note: Why the picture of Nolan teaching Robin Ventura a much-needed lesson? It doesn’t really have anything to do with comebacks, but it is Rangers related and makes me smile.

I understand the downgrade of America’s credit rating could have a negative effect on Americans’ ability to borrow money, but isn’t spending a lot of money we don’t have part what got us here in the first place? Could an America emerge from this where credit is harder to come by but we still do just fine?

Maybe the televisions are smaller and the luxury yachts less numerous, but maybe our blood pressure level as a nation is somewhere in the survivable range. Debt can bring a some positives if handled correctly (like taking on debt to expand a business, thereby generating more income), but we haven’t really proven to be good at handling it.

I realize it’s a deep issue with lots of facets that most people don’t understand and it can’t be boiled down to such simple levels. I’m just saying maybe there is an America in the future where everything isn’t about material goods and is more about living a better life without crippling debt. Over the last few years we’ve been tremendously blessed in the getting-rid-of-debt department. Our life today is a far cry from what it was even a year ago when we owed a lot of money. Life didn’t get any better until we turned off the debt nozzle and decided we didn’t need any more of it. It wasn’t easy and there were some definite growing pains over the years as we’ve come to this point. Is the same thing possible for an entire country?

Related: Rob Delaney bought some U.S. stocks.

The bad: We’ll be within reach of the ocean during Shark Week.

Conner’s best friend (ironically, also named Connor) is moving to California tomorrow morning. Tonight was the last time they’ll see each other for a very long time. They spent most of the day playing then we took them to see Captain America and had some Chili’s. I have been dreading this night since we found out they were moving. Connor is Conner’s (confusing, right?) best friend in the entire world. I know he’s seven so that’s a fairly small world, but it is still a pretty devastating thing.

As I expected, Conner is torn up about it and I can still hear him crying in his room. I know I can’t protect him from everything, and probably shouldn’t in every case, but this is one of those times when I just want to make all the pain go away. I know he’ll be okay, and I’ve told him that. I guess you just have to make it through something like that before you have the knowledge that you can survive it.

Maybe that’s the big lesson here.

Life isn’t always fair. But we still make it.

Just a note to everyone planning to be at tonight’s Round Rock Express game: My oldest son will be in attendance and wearing his New York Yankees hat. His love of the Yankees is just a misguided youthful rebellion. I’m sure some day he’ll get over it.

Now, being Texas, I’m going to ask everyone to refrain from the things you would normally do to someone wearing a Yankees hat.

That means:
NO VULGER TAUNTING.
(“The Yankees suck” is mild enough and true, therefore acceptable.)

NO STICKING A SHIV IN HIS RIBS
(This isn’t prison.)

NO SPITTING ON HIM.
(Looking at his hat and derisively spitting on the ground is fine.)

NO PHYSICAL VIOLENCE OF ANY KIND.
(I understand the urge, but resist it.)

One day we’ll cure him of his Yankee obsession. Until then, thank you for your tolerance.

But I’m not sure how to feel about completely unearned tips. More and more when I get my receipt from a restaurant it has a place for a tip, even if there is no one specific to tip. The guy takes my order, passes it off to someone and they make the food. My name is called and I pick up the food. This is the extent of my contact with the restaurant employees. Where in that process is the tip earned? Am I wrong in thinking it’s not? It isn’t like a specific employee spent an hour of their life making sure I was happy.

So do you tip in these cases? I don’t, and don’t think it should be expected, but somehow still feel bad about it.

Maybe there’s a different perspective from the people behind the counter. Do you expect a tip in these cases?