Tim Horton’s: The Awakening
by Amy Fish
Friend of mine retired.
Went back to old work place to gloat about how relaxed I am since leaving to pursue writing career full time see everybody and celebrate retirement.
Party featured standard coffee urn and oh-so-festive chocolate fountain.
Right next to each other.
Are You Thinking What I’m Thinking.
Attempt to partially fill cardboard cup with chocolate fountain and accidentally splatter chocolate on walls, paper tablecloth and possibly Founder’s portrait a few stray drops may have possibly escaped grasp.
Poured coffee from urn into cup and stirred with miniature plastic stirring thing that would not be out of place as an oar on a mouse’s boat.
Not as good as I thought it would be.
Oh I get it, Amy. So you’re a writer that went wrong because you tried something that didn’t work – chocolate fountain and coffee mix.
No. This story is just getting started. Please pay attention.
“Were you trying to put chocolate in your coffee?” asks former colleague.
“Um, sort of. Why do you ask?”
“I think you would love my coffee at Tim Horton’s.” Colleague has tongue piercing and matching cheek piercing so judgment (and taste buds) can absolutely be trusted.
“Go on, I’m listening.”
“I get ¼ cup hot chocolate and tell them to fill the rest with coffee. It’s delicious.”
That actually sounds really good.
So is that where you went wrong as a writer, Amy? You pierced your cheek?
Cheek piercing has nothing to do with writing ability. And don’t judge.
Next morning wake up a bit earlier than usual.
Promise kids I will make macaroni and cheese, from scratch, for dinner and set pot to boil. Can get dinner made before start my day.
Drop 10 year old daughter at school and realize I have time to try this new Tim Horton’s hidden menu chocolate coffee before I go home and write in my pyjamas before my first important meeting of the day.
Drive to closest Tim Horton’s and there is literally no parking anywhere.
Circle, wait, circle, wait.
Oh. So here’s where you went wrong. You circled and waited instead of finding parking down the street and walking.
No. Still not it. And it was raining.
Leave Timmy’s fruitless (and coffee/hot chocolate less) and drive to further Tim Horton’s location that has a drive through so parking will not be an issue.
En route to second Tim Horton’s when Husband calls to see how day is going so far.
(Husband leaves early for work)
Begin regaling him with tales of coffee lust, parking mayhem and unquenched beverage desire.
Realize mid sentence that have left pot of water, boiling and unattended. On the stove. This entire time.
Oh Jesus Christ Our Lord and Savior. Amy – the scales have fallen from my eyes. I see now where you mis-stepped. Your greed and arrogance led you astray.
You are a writer that went wrong because you burnt your entire house down, all because you wanted to try a hot chocolate coffee combination that some former colleague told you about at a retirement party.
Maybe you are getting me confused with someone else, because that’s not what happened here. Don’t worry though. We are almost done with the story.
So I go home. No firetrucks in front of the house. Smoke alarm not going off.
So far so good.
Go into the kitchen cautiously optimistic.
There is pot. Boiling away, on the stove. Just where I left it.
So now you know why I am a writer that went wrong.
I tried something that didn’t work.
I circled and circled but couldn’t find a place to park.
I went in the wrong direction.
And all that time, something was boiling on the back burner.
I am a writer that went wrong because I make so many mistakes.
But I never learn my lesson.