Monday, February 20, 2017

A Little Coffee Clasp

   I once asked my old high school classmate and current e-mail buddy Bob at what age guys like us could be considered “creepy old men” to much younger women we just might encounter socially. 
   Bob, who as a professor at a college is more in tune with the younger generation, would be a perfect person to ask.  Or so I thought.   But he bristled at the thought that he ever could be considered a creepy old man.  OK, forget it then.

    So recently I had a rather amusing encounter with the Tim Horton cafe lady who was taking our money and giving us coffee at the drive-through.   We ordered our usual:  “two coffees, both with one cream and one Sweet ‘n Low.”  I told her I also had one of their roll-up-the-rim coupons for a free donut.  I wanted a vanilla cream which Wendy and I could split.

    Anyone familiar with Tim Horton’s also will know their winter promotion which involves rolling up the rim on your empty throw-away coffee cup which may reveal a “Win Coffee” or “Win Donut” prize.  You tear that part of the rim off the cup, then on a future visit redeem it for your free prize.  They have other prizes advertised ranging from a donut up to a new car.  But the most we’ve ever won is a free coffee.  And the donut too, of course.

     Since we go to Tim Horton’s probably every day, we know the price for two coffees ahead of time.  It has been $3.39 for years.  That allows us to have the exact change ready almost every time.  And this time we did have the exact change.

     I pulled up to the drive-through window where the young pretty clerk opened the window and asked for the $3.39 and the coupon.  Carefully I reached in through the open drive-through window and placed the coupon in the open palm of her hand, along with three dollar bills, and several coins.   While I did this she asked, “Do you want sleeves on these?”

     As I answered, “No, we don’t need sleeves,” I curled her fingers around the cache of coins I’d just given to her, worried that she’d lose some out of her hand and let them fall to the drive outside.  That gesture must have made an impression on her, or at least disrupted her concentration because she put sleeves on our cups of coffee anyway, despite my JUST saying we didn’t need them.

     When I drove away my wife said, “What was that about?”

     I explained to her my reasoning behind what looked like an older man trying to hold hands with a much younger coffee-house barista.  She said it looked like I’d just given one of my grandsons some money, then curled their fingers around the coins so they wouldn’t lose the money I’d just given them.  Obviously this lady was old enough to know how to handle money given her.

       I had a good laugh over it down the road.  My wife didn’t think it as funny though.  She said it was like I was a dirty old man or something.  Maybe the young barista thought so as well.  Let’s hope her memory isn’t good enough to remember me next time I come around.