DesertDave

Ever notice how when elderly women are at the counter at Tim Horton's they have the gastronomical equivalent of an orgasm? They start the foreplay by ordering their brewed teas in porcelain cups- no cardboard cups for these ladies of distinction. Then their eyes grow wider and their voices rise an octave as they discuss between themselves which scrumptious bit of pastry they might consider sampling: will it be the donuts, the glazed timbits, the streudel, or maybe the creamy icing covered cinnamon bun? Maybe the brewed tea won't do the trick, maybe they should opt instead for a hot chocolate or a coffee- no wait, a French vanilla CAPUCCINO! With an extra shot of table cream, no less. Their hearts begin racing, their faces getting flushed more by the second and their heads begin swirling when just then they spot the piece de resistance- a bright red gooey, sticky, syrupy sweet STRAWBERRY TART. YES, YES , YES they say. "I'll have two!".

Then they reach into their pockets and purses and pull out their change purses, deliberately counting out loud as they pay with a pocket full of loonies and toonies and pay the server the exact amount, stopping to count twice over the dimes, nickels and pennies to be certain they haven't overpaid for their treat. No paper money to be used here, no sir. After almost 5 minutes of standing at the glass counter, their flustered server with her ever-present smile places everything carefully on the plastic serving tray and slides it across the countertop. The ladies pick it up with a genuine sense of celebration and take it to their table, never once stopping to look at the growing line of impatient customers that has amassed behind them waiting to place a simple coffee order.

Finally, I get my chance to place my order. I'll have a double-double. Twenty seconds later I've paid and am on my way out the door with my cardboard cup of coffee.