Paris Tipping, Decoded: How "Service Compris" Works

I sit at a zinc-topped terrace, Perrier fizz touching my lip, and watch the city move like quiet choreography: a waiter gliding between chairs, a child tugging a sleeve, steam rising from a basket of bread. Paris teaches me to slow down and look closely—at light on glass, at faces, at the small line on a receipt that changes everything I thought I knew about tipping.

Here, the price you see on the menu is not a teaser. It is the price you pay. Behind it lives a culture where wages are wages, tax is tax, and a tip is a choice rather than a requirement. I learned to feel for coins without guilt, to add them when gratitude swells, and to keep them when thanks fits best in a smile and a “merci.”

The Price You See Is the Price You Pay

On Paris menus and receipts, I look for the tiny phrase that carries a big promise: “service compris.” It signals that a service charge is already built into the listed prices, alongside all taxes. The total on the menu matches the total on the bill; there is no last-minute arithmetic to chase. I can breathe, sip, and pay what I expected to pay.

This is not an optional add-on. It is the default. Restaurants must display prices that include tax and, where a service is levied, the service itself. Sometimes the receipt or menu spells it out; sometimes it doesn’t; the obligation holds either way. That is why locals rarely count percentages at the table. The essential service has already been honored in the price.

Do You Tip at Restaurants and Cafés?

Short answer: no obligation. A tip in Paris is a small thank-you—never a hidden salary. I might leave coins with my espresso, or round a modest bill to the next euro. If a server is attentive, patient with my stumbling French, or simply brightens the meal, I add more. But I never tip because I fear I must; I tip because I want to mark the moment.

In practice, locals often leave a euro or two for simple service and keep anything near five to ten percent for meals that genuinely rise above. There is no standard percentage, no social penalty for restraint. The custom is to read the room, notice the care, and give a little when gratitude asks for weight.

How Much to Leave, by Situation

For coffee or a single drink, a handful of coins feels right—think rounding up or leaving small change on the saucer. For a casual lunch or dinner, I usually part with two to five euros if service is warm and steady. At fine dining tables, where the choreography grows more intricate, I treat the gesture like a thank-you note: still optional, still personal, sometimes closer to five to ten percent.

I avoid turning Paris into a spreadsheet. I use coins when I can, a note when it’s meaningful, and never feel forced toward a number that belongs to another country’s habits. When in doubt, I watch what nearby diners leave and let that quiet cue guide me.

I cradle a Perrier as light skims the table and coins sing.

Card Machines and the New Prompt Culture

Card terminals in Paris have begun to nudge—little screens suggesting gratuities in round numbers or neat slices of a bill. These are prompts, not pressure. If I wish, I tap “no tip,” “other amount,” or simply settle the exact total. The included service already covers the team; any extra remains purely voluntary.

When I do add a tip by card, I keep it small and deliberate. When I do not, I smile, say “merci, bonne journée,” and leave with light pockets and a lighter mind. Politeness, not percentages, is the language Paris understands.

Taxis, Rideshares, and Drivers

With taxis or ride apps, I round to the nearest euro for a routine trip. If the driver weaves through rain, helps with a heavy suitcase, or waits while I shake off jet lag at the curb, I might add one to two euros per bag or a few extra euros for care. Nothing is expected; gratitude is still a choice.

Most apps allow in-app tipping; on street cabs I keep coins ready. I do not tip because a screen asked me to; I tip because someone made the journey softer than it had to be.

Hotels: Porter, Housekeeping, Concierge

At the hotel door, I keep tipping simple and human. For porters, one to two euros per bag. For housekeeping, one to two euros per night, especially when the room has been lived in with the joyful chaos of travel. For concierges, I reserve cash for special efforts—hard-to-get tables, tickets, or a minor miracle—anywhere from a few euros to a discreet, larger thank-you for true above-and-beyond.

Room service sometimes carries a service line; if it does not, a small coin tip at the door feels kind. I do not strain toward numbers; I aim for sincerity that fits the help received.

Museums, Tours, and Performances

Guided group tours often end with a gentle pause—an invitation to tip if you enjoyed the walk and the storytelling. Two to five euros per person is common for group tours; private tours can warrant a percentage-style thank-you, but only if the experience sings. Free walking tours run on tips entirely; I pay what the time was worth to me.

At theaters and concert halls, ushers are salaried yet sometimes still tip-oriented; a euro or two when they guide you kindly to your seat is courteous. At cloakrooms, if attendants are present and there is no fixed fee, I offer one to two euros per item. If a sign reads “pourboire interdit,” I honor it and tuck my coins away.

Why Tipping Feels Different in France

Here, service is a profession with a wage floor, not a gamble on a stranger’s mood. That changes the air in the room. Servers can focus on attention and craft; guests can focus on appetite and conversation. A tip becomes a ribbon on a well-wrapped box, not the string holding it together.

I find relief in this clarity. The bread lands warm, the butter is bright, and I can taste each bite without the churn of math. If gratitude stirs, I let a coin carry it. If it does not, I offer thanks with words and leave the rest to the line that already said “included.”

A Simple Cheat Sheet for Your Pocket

Keep this handy summary when your mind goes blank under the soft press of the crowd and the scent of roasted coffee:

• Restaurants & cafés: Service included. Add coins or round up for good service; five to ten percent only for meals that truly shine.
• Card prompts: Optional. Choose “no tip” or a small custom amount without guilt.
• Taxis & rideshares: Round up to the next euro; add one to two euros per bag for extra help.
• Hotels: Porters one to two euros per bag; housekeeping one to two euros per night; concierge a few euros for routine help, more for minor miracles.
• Tours: Group tours two to five euros per person; private tours, a personal percentage-style thank-you if deserved; “free” tours rely on tips.
• Theaters & cloakrooms: One to two euros when assistance is attentive; follow signs if tipping is forbidden.

That’s all you need. Paris meets generosity with grace, and restraint with the same.