In a move that has shocked the local restaurant industry harder than a surprise health inspection, Utah man Adam Klutz has committed the unthinkable: he told the truth and tipped accordingly.
Klutz, a 33-year-old marketing professional with a decent income, an active dating life, and a slowly eroding will to live, says he simply couldn’t take it anymore. “Everything’s more expensive — rent, gas, eggs, emotional stability — you name it. But the food? Worse than ever,” Klutz ranted in a now-viral TikTok filmed from the parking lot of a tapas place that serves miniature lettuce wraps for $19 each.
“Dinner for two at a mid-level, carpeted restaurant with vaguely Italian décor? You get in the neighbourhood of $100, and that is with a shared dessert. And if you dare order wine or cocktails, you’re looking at three digits and a spiritual crisis.”
But it wasn’t just the prices that broke him. It was the tipping culture. “I used to be a 20% guy. Then 22%. Then 25%. Suddenly the cashier at a coffee drive-thru is spinning around an iPad expecting me to fund their grad school just for handing me a lukewarm Americano.”
It was in this moment of fiscal and existential despair that Klutz had his epiphany. In a world of social media food influencers who beam at the camera while praising overcooked salmon with the enthusiasm of a cult member, he would be … different.
He launched a brutally honest restaurant review series on Instagram and TikTok under the handle @TippingRight. He documented each outing with surgical precision: rating food, ambiance, service, and yes — whether the server deserved a tip. And if they didn’t? He left nothing.
“I’m not anti-tip,” he clarified in one post. “I’m pro-earning-it.”
When service was good, Klutz went above and beyond, dropping 30%, even 35% tips. But when it wasn’t? “You get what you give,” he shrugged.
In just four months, Klutz’s audience ballooned to over 742,000 followers. Comments range from, “Finally, someone said it”, to “Can you please review my ex’s restaurant next?”
But not everyone is laughing.
“He came into my place once. Once,” said one restaurant owner, who asked to remain anonymous but insisted we note that he’s “from Jersey and proud.”
“We were short-staffed,” he continued. “My cousin Vinny was cooking. This guy orders the most complicated thing on the menu and then goes online and crucifies us? Not fair.”
One server, who received no tip from Klutz after what she called “an admittedly off night,” defended herself on Instagram:
“I had just gone through a breakup. I didn’t feel like smiling or constantly refilling his water. Should I really be punished for that?”
Klutz’s response?
“Look, I’m not tipping based on your emotional weather report. I’m tipping based on whether I got water sometime between the appetizer and my descent into dehydration.”
Klutz’s reviews have reportedly led to measurable drops in business for several establishments, particularly those whose pasta-to-sauce ratio leaves something to be desired.
Six restaurant owners (coincidentally, all originally from the East Coast) attempted to sue Klutz for defamation, harassment, and “spreading negativity vibes.” Unfortunately, their case hit a snag called the First Amendment.
“Freedom of speech,” Klutz told reporters with a shrug. “You can serve me raw chicken, but I can serve you receipts.”
Some restaurant insiders are now considering alternative solutions. “We’re not saying we’d actually hire a hitman,” said one frustrated owner. “But if someone were to make Adam disappear, hypothetically, it wouldn’t be the worst Yelp review we’ve gotten.”
Is it just a joke? Is Klutz in danger? Or is this simply the logical end of a culture where everyone’s a food critic, but only one has the guts to say the mushroom risotto with the rare appearance of its namesake mushrooms, sucked?
For now, Adam Klutz remains at large, iPhone in hand, tip calculator loaded, ready to expose the next overpriced Caesar salad.
*Featured image by Bibek Thakuri on Unsplash
*Editor’s Note: This article is a work of satire and is intended for entertainment and commentary purposes only. While it may reference real places or echo real events, the characters and situations are fictionalized for humor and reflection. At Utah Stories, we believe that sometimes the absurd reveals more truth than the facts alone.
