"Uh-huh, I don't tip."

Pink said in a flat tone, stroking his goatee with a finger, almost snobbishly, completely convinced of what he was saying. He wouldn't budge on this.

the other members of the gang, gathered at the table, simply left a small contribution–at Eddie's request–silently observing Pink's curious opinion. It wasn't an everyday thing to rebel against such a...common gesture?

Of all of them, Eddie seemed the most affected.–"You don’t tip?"–asked the young man, who had earlier invited him to leave a greenback to the waitresses, and seemed somewhat incredulous as he glanced over at Pink, who answered soon after.

"No, I don't believe it." he replied, sticking to his guns, not even deigning to look at Eddie or the others.–whether he was stubborn or stingy, the others couldn't have given a better answer.

Eddie had to glance at the others, as if to confirm that they, too, were hearing the same words. "You don't believe in tipping?"–he asked again, probably unsure whether to laugh or tell him to go to hell.

"You know what these chicks make?" – Mr. Blue joined in this unprecedented exchange. – "They make shit."–added the old man, turning his confused, almost incredulous gaze to Pink.*

Mr. Pink turned to the old man with an indifferent expression,–"Don’t give me that, if she don’t make enough money, she can quit."–his tone was no different, with a clear hint of sarcasm.

Mr Blonde let out a surprise, quiet chuckle at those words, Pink’s audacity was straight up to another level.