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// Tips 
// Story: Human Rituals 
// by Aegis Shield 
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Human Rituals
Tips
(10 Months Since Arrival)

Spike and I stood in front of the one ‘foreign’ restaurant in Ponyville. I scratched my head a little at the black and red sign as the last train of the day screamed by. Spike held onto my hair since he was sitting on my right shoulder. I swatted at him a little, then let him slide down my arm as we approached the bouncer.

“Welcome to the Predator’s Lounge,” the lion-bodied bird at the porch said with a snarl. “How tough are ya?!” He leaned at me aggressively, even though I towered over him by several feet.

“I’m a sentient being from another dimension, stay with Princess Sparkle and single-handedly pulled on Celestia’s ears once… and lived to tell the tale.” I snarked, turning to one side like I was a badass or something. The truth was I’d ‘landed’ in front of Celestia, thought I was dead, and eagerly massaged the top of her head with both hands. Being into swords and sorcery books, Dungeons and Dragons and the like, I was sure I was either dreaming or had been hit by a car. The sun princess’ blank stare and quickly wrenching away in shock made her ears turn bright red, for I’d been grasping them when she pulled. The squeal had me surrounded with guards, shouting, and a lot of confusion.

“Alright,” the griffin said, narrowing his eyes and looking down at Spike. “Welcome to the Predator’s Lounge, how tough are ya?” he snapped.

“I… I uhm…” Spike’s claws interlocked and his little frilled ears instantly wilted. “Th-that is,”

“Er-herm,” I interrupted. “Spike doesn’t need an introduction. I’m sure you know dragons like him can swim in lava, break gems with their jaws and breath fire?” I swatted Spike on the back. His jaw clicked and a loud ‘fwik’ sound issued like someone messing with a lighter. The little spark of green flame quickly died as he shot me a dirty look. He hated it when I did that.

“Fair enough,” The bouncer stood aside and we entered. 

One might’ve called the Predator’s Lounge a seedy bar or something, but Equestria just didn’t have any concept of it. At least not in innocent little Ponyville. “Welcome to the Predator’s Lounge, how tough are ya?”

“I finished a whole bowl of Luna Stars this morning… without any milk,” said the stallion in line behind us. The bouncer touched his neck with a wince and let him pass. I rolled my eyes and smirked. It was like living in a cartoon sometimes, this place.

Now, obviously I couldn’t sit at a table because of my size, but the heavily painted owner snapped his claws and ordered a big sitting pillow for me instead. (Painting their feathers was the griffon equivalent of tattoos, I think) Spike and I got a sort of party room all to ourselves so I wouldn’t hit my head anywhere. After a quick order of spaghetti and meatballs, we hung out for a while together.

It was no secret I basically needed double or triple the normal portion to be satisfied, so it was always expensive for me to eat out. But Spike and I were buds, so I didn’t mind taking him out for ‘man time’ now and then. “What’s uh… what’s man-time?” Spike wanted to know.

“Y’know, when you leave all the girls behind?”

“Why would you do that?!” Spike gaped.

“Er,” I scratched my head. “Hrm,” I thought for a second. “You know, to tell dirty jokes, talk about who’s got the best butt, drink, all that…?” I trailed off but he wasn’t following. “Would you have a belching contest in front of Rarity?”

“Oh no, never!” Spike said.

“Then you reserve that for man-time,” I said with a laugh.

“Gotcha. All the stuff you wouldn’t do in front of the mares if your life,” he said.

“That’s the ticket,” I said, tilting the soda jug to my lips (size difference, remember). By the time our meal had arrived we were definitely ready for it, and conversation ended for a while. I watched ponies go by in the street through the tinted windows. The Predator’s Lounge was a private sort of place. You could see out, but not in. “Okay, I’ve got this one,” I said, getting my rucksack. “I know I ain’t a cheap date.”

“Hehe!” Spike belched, leaning back and holding his belly. It was a rare thing for him to sit and eat a devoted meal of meat and spices. Fluttershy would provide now and then for his dragon nutrition, but now and then one just needed to indulge.

Counting out four meals worth of bits, I scratched my head again. “Okay, tip. What’s fifteen percent of sixty?” I asked him

Spike frowned, “Uh… nine? Nine-ish?” he tried. It sounded right to me. “How come you’re leaving extra money?”

“For a tip?”

“Advice?” Twilight’s translator band had fritzed again.

“For a gratuity, for good service,” I tried again. Spike stared at me blankly. “Equestria doesn’t have tipping?”

“Well sure if you lean far enough,” Spike said. I facepalmed as my wristband buzzed lightly in negativity.

“No no, I mean like… to give the waiter a little money for a job well done? Speed and accuracy of order?” I said.

“I’ve never seen anypony do that, that’s really nice of you!” Spike said, enthused. “I bet they’d really like that if you just left  money on the table to be nice!”

I stopped, hand halfway out of my bit-bag. In some countries, I remembered, tipping was considered an insult. That perhaps paying your staff more would make them better workers, and that they could do better next time. Where I was from, it was expected, since servers were paid so poorly. I hesitated for a time. Equestria had no concept of gratuity at a restaurant at all? “Hrm…” I glanced out of the party room towards the bar. Twilight’s translator band flickered a few times with a dull purple light. The letters and squiggles that made up the Equestrian language rearranged themselves in under three seconds. Must Have Valid ID to Drink. Bathroom for Customers Only. 10% Additional Cost for Parties of 8 or More. “Ah, they do have gratuities here. Might be a griffon thing instead of a pony thing,” I said, feeling a little less guilty now. Spike and I were a party of two, so I could leave a two point five percent tip and have a clear conscious. 

Spike stared at me oddly as I considered how many bits that was, then left three golden coins on the table by our empty drink glasses. “You’re weird sometimes, you know that?” he said, smiling. “But I bet they’ll be happy to find money on the table after we’re gone.”

“Call it a habit.” I said, standing and getting my coat. “Outside your family, Spike, there are three people, er ponies, you should always be extra nice to.”

“Oh yeah?” He thanked me for the meal, looking up at my curiously as we got outside again. “Who’s that?”

“Your waiter, your doctor and your bus driver.”

“What’s a bus?”

“Nevermind that,” I chuckled, pulling him up to sit on my shoulder. “Point is, always be extra nice to the folks that touch your food,” I said matter of factly. I let the implication hang in the air.

“Ohh, makes sense,” he said. His tiny body was already going into a little food coma, though. He leaned against my head, claws grasping my hair. By the time we got back to Castle Friendship the poor little guy was asleep. Taking my shoes off and setting them to one side, I ran into Twilight in the main hall. Her little book corner was smeared with papers and other princess-ly things that she worked with all day.

“Hey,” she said softly when she saw Spike sleeping. Using her magic she gently pried him from my head and shoulder, putting him in a blanketed basket next to her big desk. I forgot how small he was, sometimes— it’s hard to gauge Spike’s maturity on his size. “You boys have a good time?” she asked.

“Yeah. Did you like the songs I wrote out for you?” I asked.

“Yes, these are all very nice. Odd, but nice,” Twilight nodded. I noticed the paper on top of the stack with the most markings was ‘I Write Sins Not Tragedies’ by Panic at the Disco. The idea of Twilight reading them aloud for study was frickin' hilarious to me. The purple princess had promised me two bits per complete set of human song lyrics I could write for her. As the ponies were all musical sorts, sometimes breaking into song and dance numbers in the middle of the street, music was a big focus for Twilight’s human studies. So, I’d weighed her down with Garth Brooks, System of a Down, Panic at the Disco and Imagine Dragons. You know, a nice cultural slice of genres. It was definitely profitable for me, and after the local ponies had seen me out in the market, buying things like everypony else, they seemed to relax a  bit. I wasn’t just gonna be a mooch on their princess’ dime. Er, bit.