I'm addicted to coffee. There, I've admitted it right up front. Without my morning coffee, I would collapse to the floor, quivering and mumbling gibberish. Don't think for a minute that just one coffee would suffice, either. It's a two-drink minimum in my world, although the second coffee is always decaffeinated. Unfortunately, the details of my terrible addiction are even more sordid than you might imagine.
I work construction, and coffee drinkers hold the majority. While you might picture us as hearty beer drinkers, it's coffee that gets us going each day and keeps us revved up until the workday ends. We can't drink alcohol and use tools at the same time anyway. Beer is fine for after work, but I still prefer coffee. Some guys bring a thermos to work; not me! I did it for years and simply cannot tolerate the glassy, stale taste of thermos coffee. Yup, I'm a coffee snob.
Once upon a time, I'd stop at whatever gas station was handy to buy my caffeine fix. That was some baaad coffee, let me tell you! Gas station coffee has come a long way since then, however. It's big business and very competitive, with all sorts of flavored coffees and fancy creamers to choose from. I shun those, as well! I told you I'm a snob, didn't I?
For years our crew had breakfast meetings at McDonalds, and I considered the coffee there to be more than tolerable. "How is your coffee so delicious?" I can even recall asking one Mickey-Dee's employee. She explained that it's double-filtered and ultra-pure. Whatever. I no longer consider McCoffee to be an acceptable pick-me-up. I've moved on.
Dunkin Donuts has very good coffee, and I've been known to splurge now and then and stop in there to feed my addiction. They're a bit silly about the price, however. If I really wanted to pay almost $2 for my French vanilla decaf, I'd go to Starbucks and soak up the ambiance there. Dunkin Donuts does one more thing that bothers me, too: they have a Tip Jar in the drive-through window. They seed it with $1 bills. Riiiiight, like I'm going to throw in an extra dollar just because my "barista" is a cutie and she handed me my $2 coffee with a smile.
Okay, I'll just come out with it. I'm sure you'll understand. I'm addicted to Tim Horton's coffee. My veins yearn for it night and day. I'll gladly drive ten miles round trip just to get my Tim-fix. I know, you thought their commercials asserting this addiction were hyperbole. Let me assure the attraction is real, and irresistible. I'm not the only one, either, not by any stretch of the imagination. Some mornings the line is ten minutes long, yet still we wait. We must have our Tim's!
Many of you are saying, "what the heck is Tim Horton's?" Obviously, you're not Canadian, nor do you live in the Northeastern US. It's a regional thing, but huge, with over 2,000 stores and growing fast. We crave new store locations because the extra mileage is killing us, at $4 a gallon. On some of the busy roads around here there are Tim Horton's locations on both sides of the highway, so you don't have to make a difficult left turn to get your fix.
What's so special about this Canadian coffee? Beats me! It tastes fantastic, but there must be more to it than that. After all, Starbuck's fancy-shmancy beverages are yummy, too. Granted, it's over $2 even for a pica-mini-petite or whatever. They have free Wi-Fi there, too, so you're getting something for all that extra dough. Still, I prefer Tim Horton's and would pay more than I'm paying now. (For heaven's sake, don't tell them that!)
Coffee's coffee, you might argue. You would be wrong, capital W. You see, there's more to the story. Tim Horton's puts the cream and sugar in for you! Yup, it's true. No more handing a bag out the window, filled with six creamers and a dozen assorted sugars plus the stupid little stir thingy. They do it for you. Here-in lies the problem.
When you drive through and order your TH coffee(s), you have to tell them how you want it. There's special codes, like "double-double" for two creams and two sugars. I have my own special order. I get two coffees each morning. One is simple: medium coffee, one cream. The other is a bit trickier. I'm cutting back on sugar, so I order a medium decaf, one cream and a half a sugar. You heard me: HALF a sugar. It's a perfectly normal request. Sometimes this leads to trouble.
You understand about drive-thru ordering; it's hit or miss as to audio quality and your server's hearing acuity. Sometimes the level of error introduced just boggles my mind. When I order my decaf, one cream and half a sugar, there are often questions.
"Was that a large coffee with one cream and eleven sugars?" was the real response one morning.
"No, that's not right!" And I have to say it all over again.
"What was the other coffee, then?" comes the static-ridden response. I sigh and order once again, speaking the way an adult might to a hearing-disabled child.
Keep in mind, I have a very clear voice. I did radio years ago; I cannot speak any more clearly without sounding like a condescending jerk. This garbled-words issue does make me wonder how those for whom English is a second language fare in similar circumstances. Someday I'm going to drive through and order in an Hispanic gangsta voice, just to see what happens.
None of that matters, anyway. I must have my Tim Horton's coffee, regardless of all obstacles. (And, no, I'm not getting paid one cent to write this!) I'm finishing my second one now, the regular with one cream. It's nearly gone, and soon I will need more. There is a perfectly good coffeepot in the kitchen, but I will get in my truck and drive to Tim Horton's, nearly seven miles away, to order just one more to carry me through the afternoon. It will cost me $4.29 (point 9) to do this, at today's gas price. I don't care. I'm a coffee addict, and a coffee snob. I told you that right off. Don't laugh at me, it's not polite.