ON THE TOWN:’Thank you’ would be most welcome

In New York, most of the tip jars I saw in retail stores are locked and bolted to the counter. But that’s New York, and I expect no less.

Here, the containers into which retail clerks anticipate tips are not bolted down — at least, I’ve never seen one secured — but they are still annoying.

They are so annoying that I find myself breaking a new habit just to avoid dropping any money in them.

The new habit, started about a year ago, was to tip a little more than I had been. We’re not talking about a lot of money — a buck or two or three here and there. It’s not much to me, but it means a lot to the server.

Last weekend, for example, my wife and I went to the Honda Center in Anaheim to attend a charity event benefiting Cal State Fullerton. (By the way, the Honda Center is a crummy name, one that I am loath to use. The Ducks still play there, and it will always be the Pond.)

I ordered two overpriced drinks and gave the bartender an extra $2. She looked at me as though I’d just handed her the winning lottery ticket and gave me an enthusiastic, “Thank you!”

That was worth the $2.

The extra tip, or any tip for that matter, should only be given when the service is good.

Still, I cannot bring myself to put any change in those tip jars, even when the service is good.

Most of this resistance stems from a trend I’ve pointed out here in the past, and that is that sales clerks, the ones working the cash registers in these stores, rarely thank customers anymore.

Instead, when handed our change we get, “Have a nice day,” or “Here you go!”

Even more curious is how the customer — that’s you and me — winds up thanking the clerk. It’s as though there is a void somewhere. You see, someone is supposed to say “thank you” during the transaction, and I guess if the clerk isn’t going to say it, then we will.

If you don’t believe me, watch and listen to the people in line in front of you the next time you are buying anything.

Or listen to yourself — I’ll bet you’re thanking the cashier for allowing you to buy things in the store.

Sometimes I feel bad about not throwing my change into a tip jar. After all, it’s not much to me and could add up to a lot to them. But I can’t get past the notion that those jars are an assumption, that we are somehow obligated to fill them regardless of or in advance of the service.

So, I’ve come to a compromise.

I have decided that I will put change in any tip jar if I get a “thank you” from the cashier.

That’s all that’s required. I like rewarding good behavior, and even if a “thank you” from the cashier is not so much good behavior as it should be standard-operating procedure, I know that times have changed, and I’m willing to change with them.

Good service really is getting harder to find. But what makes good service really good is the moment it happens. That’s when you appreciate the little things in life.

Even my least favorite airline, one that I will never again use, was responsible for the single best incident of customer service I have experienced in the past five years.

Unfortunately, that was not enough to overcome the effects of a business that is otherwise poorly run.

Last Sunday, my wife and I rode our bikes to get coffee and read the newspaper. As I got my change, I said, “Thank you” to the cashier.

I forgave myself — it was early, and I hadn’t had my coffee.