The unexpected rise of tipping fatigue in everyday situations.
You used to only tip at restaurants. Now, you can’t even buy a muffin without the screen flipping toward you, asking for 20%. It’s not that folks don’t want to be generous—it’s that tipping has started showing up in the weirdest places. You’ve probably asked yourself, Am I really supposed to tip for this? And the answer, increasingly, is: apparently so.
The worst part? These requests often pop up during totally self-serve moments. No human interaction, no extra service, just a prompt making you feel like a villain if you tap “no tip.” So here are 11 situations that’ll make you feel seen—and maybe a little less guilty about skipping the tip screen.
1. Tipping at self-checkout kiosks.
There’s something a little surreal about doing all the work yourself—scanning, bagging, tapping—and still being asked for a tip. You didn’t even speak to a human being, and yet there it is: the digital guilt trip. According to Arwa Mahdawi at The Guardian, some stores have started adding tipping options to self-checkout machines, leaving people confused and a little irritated. Who’s actually getting that tip, and what exactly did they do?
It’s one thing to show appreciation for great service, but it feels off when there was no service to begin with. This isn’t about being stingy—it’s about boundaries. When tipping becomes automatic, it also becomes meaningless. You’re not saying thank you; you’re just avoiding feeling bad. And that’s a shame for the times when real gratitude should matter.
2. The coffee shop tip screen spin.
You order a simple black coffee, hand over your card, and the barista swivels the tablet toward you. The screen lights up with tipping options before you’ve even taken a sip. There’s a subtle pressure in that moment—it’s not aggressive, but it’s there. You start wondering if you’re a terrible person for hitting “no tip” on a $3 order.
As stated by Nathaniel Meyersohn at CNN, the tipping screen spin has become its own ritual, one that sometimes feels like performance art. You’re not tipping for exceptional service; you’re tipping because someone made eye contact. It’s created an awkward tension at counters everywhere, where generosity feels like an obligation and nobody really knows the rules anymore.
3. Tip jars at fast-food chains.
Fast-food workers absolutely deserve fair wages—but when multinational chains add tip jars to the counter, it feels like they’re passing the buck. It’s not the same as a local diner where you know your tip goes straight to someone scraping by. As reported by Vanessa Balintec at CBC, these massive corporations could pay their employees more, but instead they lean on customer guilt to fill the gap.
And somehow, the tip jars are always right where your hand goes to grab your change. It’s not subtle. You feel the eyes of everyone behind you as you decide whether to drop in a dollar or just walk away. It’s not about not wanting to support the staff—it’s about wondering why billion-dollar companies are asking you to do it for them.
4. Suggested tips for pre-packaged snacks.
You grab a protein bar or a cookie at a local shop, walk to the counter, and boom: you’re faced with a tipping prompt. No one prepared the snack. No one wrapped it up or handed it to you with flair. It came off a shelf. And yet, the card reader wants to know how much extra you’d like to give for…what exactly?
The whole thing feels like a social trap. You know the person behind the counter didn’t do anything wrong—but they also didn’t do anything. So why is the expectation there? It’s making even the most mundane purchases feel high-stakes. And frankly, it just makes you want to avoid the store altogether next time.
5. Tipping prompts after online orders with no interaction.
You place an order through a store’s website for in-store pickup. There’s no chat, no call, no special request—just a clean, efficient checkout. Then comes the prompt: “Would you like to leave a tip?” You blink at the screen, unsure who it’s for. Nobody has done anything yet, and maybe nobody will.
This type of tipping request feels like a placeholder for guilt. You haven’t even seen a human, but somehow you’re supposed to express appreciation. It’s not that you mind tipping for effort—but there was none here. It makes the act of tipping feel transactional in the worst way, detached from any real gratitude or connection.
6. Hair salons asking for tips on consultations.
Hair consultations can be helpful, especially if you’re planning something dramatic. But tipping someone for talking to you about a potential haircut—before any scissors are lifted—feels like overkill. Some salons now prompt you to tip after a consultation, even if you walk out without booking anything.
It puts you in a strange position. You appreciate the time, sure, but does that mean you’re on the hook financially? It turns a free service into a pay-what-you-feel situation, which no one really asked for. And it doesn’t help the stylist either—it just creates tension where there didn’t need to be any.
7. Delivery apps prompting for tips before the order is delivered.
Ordering delivery used to mean tipping after the meal, based on how things went. Now, most apps ask for your tip upfront—before you even hit “confirm.” You’re tipping for a service that hasn’t happened yet, hoping nothing goes wrong. It’s like rating a movie before you’ve watched it.
It’s especially tricky when your food shows up cold or late, but you already tipped 20%. You want to support the driver, but the system makes it impossible to respond to the actual experience. It feels backwards—and a little unfair to everyone involved.
8. Tipping for subscription boxes.
Subscription boxes are fun—you pay a set price, get a surprise, and everyone’s happy. Or so you thought. Now some companies are adding a tipping option at checkout, even though there’s no direct contact with a person. It’s like tipping Amazon for putting your order in a box.
It takes the joy out of a no-hassle purchase. When the only “service” is automated fulfillment, it’s hard to understand where that tip is going. And it makes you second-guess the whole transaction. The magic of a subscription box isn’t worth a guilt trip at checkout.
9. Tipping prompts on charity donation pages.
You’ve just donated to a cause you care about. It feels good. But then you’re hit with another prompt—Do you want to leave a tip for the platform? Suddenly your clean act of generosity gets muddled. Now you’re wondering how much of your donation actually went to the people who need it.
It’s not that you don’t appreciate the service these platforms provide. But it feels wrong to attach a gratuity prompt to a donation. You’re already giving out of goodwill. Adding a tip button feels like a marketing upsell on something that should feel pure.
10. Asking for tips at DIY paint studios.
You pay a flat fee to use paints and brushes. You pick your project. You sit down and create. And then, after you’ve cleaned your station and returned your tools, there’s a tip jar or a digital prompt waiting for you. For what, exactly? The space rental?
These kinds of businesses are built on self-service and creativity. There’s staff around to help if needed, but most people don’t use them. Tipping here feels like a formality that doesn’t fit. It’s like tipping yourself for showing up and doing something fun.
11. Tips requested during hotel check-in via tablet.
You finally arrive at your hotel after a long trip, and the front desk employee hands you a tablet to sign in. Before you can tap through, the screen asks if you’d like to leave a tip. You haven’t even been handed a key yet. It’s a weird moment, mostly because you’re not sure what the tip is actually for.
Sure, hospitality is a service industry, but tipping at check-in feels a little premature. There’s no luggage assistance, no room upgrade, no extra anything—just a clerk verifying your ID. It turns what should be a simple welcome into an awkward moral dilemma. And that’s no way to start a stay.