Tim Horton's Horrorshow
I snuck off to Tim Horton’s today on my break – the first time I have such in well over a year now, since I have successfully managed to shake the popular Tim Horton’s monkey from my back.
What can I say? My flesh momentarily went weak! There was just something delightfully dubious about giving in to such an old guilty pleasure of mine on a sudden whim. It was like sneaking a cigarette behind the tool shed when I thought nobody was around.
But this indulgence soon reaffirmed to me why I have actively boycotted Tim Horton’s in the first place. I guess my faith and focus just needed to be tested one more time after this past year of self-rehab in order to continue building my natural resistance to this demonic cultural coffee phenomenon.
I always found it creepy that avid Tim Horton’s customers were so over-zealous in the first place about getting their regular fixes of Double-Double’s every day. If ever they have to go even a few hours without their precious “Timmy’s”, they are immediately reduced to cranky fits of shiverin, shaking, and complaining; break out in cold sweats; and otherwise carry on like a jonsing junkie in some back alley.
It’s very unsettling!
But today, I just craved one of their precious “Whole Wheat & Honey Bagel w/ Herb & Garlic spread” – go figure!
I was actually surprised that they served me since I have been under the impression that your Canadian citizenship was automatically revoked and you were shipped overseas to slave in some foreign mine if you ever failed to frequent your local Tim Horton’s at least once a day.
But alas, they didn’t require my passport and made no security checks into my past, and I received my bagel & cream cheese unceremoniously like every other Tim Horton’s rube in line - which, it shold be noted, was many.
In fact, there were so many glazed over, pleading sets of eyes in the place that it was like the small donut shop was being seiged by minions of mindless, caffeine-starved zombies.
I almost didn’t know whether to grab my Whole Wheat bagel and split like a Siamese twin, or just start ramming sharpened stir-sticks into people’s heads in order to defend myself against the impending zombie hordes.
I am happy to report that I made it back safely with my toasted shame unfettered and unharmed. However, I’m sure that it will be another year before I ever allow myself to indulge in this guilty pleasure again.
What can I say? My flesh momentarily went weak! There was just something delightfully dubious about giving in to such an old guilty pleasure of mine on a sudden whim. It was like sneaking a cigarette behind the tool shed when I thought nobody was around.
But this indulgence soon reaffirmed to me why I have actively boycotted Tim Horton’s in the first place. I guess my faith and focus just needed to be tested one more time after this past year of self-rehab in order to continue building my natural resistance to this demonic cultural coffee phenomenon.
I always found it creepy that avid Tim Horton’s customers were so over-zealous in the first place about getting their regular fixes of Double-Double’s every day. If ever they have to go even a few hours without their precious “Timmy’s”, they are immediately reduced to cranky fits of shiverin, shaking, and complaining; break out in cold sweats; and otherwise carry on like a jonsing junkie in some back alley.
It’s very unsettling!
But today, I just craved one of their precious “Whole Wheat & Honey Bagel w/ Herb & Garlic spread” – go figure!
I was actually surprised that they served me since I have been under the impression that your Canadian citizenship was automatically revoked and you were shipped overseas to slave in some foreign mine if you ever failed to frequent your local Tim Horton’s at least once a day.
But alas, they didn’t require my passport and made no security checks into my past, and I received my bagel & cream cheese unceremoniously like every other Tim Horton’s rube in line - which, it shold be noted, was many.
In fact, there were so many glazed over, pleading sets of eyes in the place that it was like the small donut shop was being seiged by minions of mindless, caffeine-starved zombies.
I almost didn’t know whether to grab my Whole Wheat bagel and split like a Siamese twin, or just start ramming sharpened stir-sticks into people’s heads in order to defend myself against the impending zombie hordes.
I am happy to report that I made it back safely with my toasted shame unfettered and unharmed. However, I’m sure that it will be another year before I ever allow myself to indulge in this guilty pleasure again.
posted by crazytigerrabbitman at
9:55 AM
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