I’ve been making a habit of stopping at a little neighbourhood café lately. I enjoy supporting local businesses, and there’s something comforting about having a regular place to grab a coffee and a Danish. It’s a simple pleasure, and I like knowing I’m helping a small business in the community.
The young woman behind the counter is always pleasant, and I sometimes feel sorry for her when she turns the payment terminal around and that familiar tip screen appears. I don’t mind being generous, and most days I’m happy to leave a little something. The café has a sign saying credit card purchases are $5 and up, which is perfectly reasonable. A coffee and a Danish get me there, so I tap my card, add a tip and carry on with my day. I do this almost every day, which is where the little extras begin to add up.
When I looked at my credit card statement this month, those little tips suddenly didn’t seem so little. Nobody brought a meal to my table, checked on me or cleared away my dishes. I ordered at the counter, carried everything myself, found a seat and cleaned up afterwards. I was happy to do it, but I began wondering why I was adding a tip to an experience where I was doing most of the work.
A few dollars here and there don’t seem like much when you’re standing at the counter. But when you keep doing it day after day, the numbers begin to tell a different story. I added up what I had spent on those coffees and tips, and there was enough money staring back at me to make me reconsider my morning routine. All those little taps could have paid for a proper steak dinner for two, complete with sizzling steaks, a couple of drinks and perhaps even dessert. Instead, I had been quietly tipping my way toward a restaurant bill without ever sitting down for one. That’s quite a revelation when all you thought you were doing was enjoying your morning coffee.
And with colder weather creeping in, Christmas just around the corner and many of us having already helped ourselves to the kids’ Halloween candy haul, you might find yourself feeling a little more generous than usual. It’s that time of year when we soften up, think about the people working behind the counter and feel inclined to leave a little extra. But come January, when the holiday spending catches up with you and the credit card statement lands, those daily tips might look a little less like Christmas cheer and a lot more like another expense.
I’m not picking on the café or the young woman working there. I want local businesses to survive, and I certainly want the people working in them to earn a decent living. I have no problem rewarding good service, but there’s a difference between tipping someone who has gone out of their way for you and feeling obliged to leave something every time a payment terminal asks. In Quebec, tipping is voluntary, and the Office de la protection du consommateur explains the rules governing suggested gratuities on payment terminals.
This frustration isn’t just mine. A 2026 H&R Block Canada survey found that 67% of Canadians surveyed believe tipping culture should be abolished. Another 93% said they feel annoyed when payment machines ask for tips in situations where tipping wasn’t traditionally expected. That’s quite a reaction to a little screen.
Generosity is a good thing, but it shouldn’t become an automatic addition to every little purchase. Customers should be able to decide when and how much to tip without feeling pressured by a payment terminal.
As the saying goes, sooner or later, the scales will tip. So, Montreal coffee drinkers, do you leave a tip every time the screen asks, even when you order at the counter and do most of the work yourself? Have you ever added up those little daily tips and wondered how much they were really costing you?