A NOD TO AN URBAN MYTH

It's 1:00am two weeks ago. I'm with a few pals driving home from parts unknown and we approach Canmore. We're tired and it's pissing rain. Well, the caffeine educated ones say "Timmy's!" with all the glee of a child on Christmas morn. I respond with a simple shrug. I've been hearing this mantra for years and I don't get it. It's like a Canadian in India watching a cricket match. "Huh? What the?".

So we turn in and park and meander into the gas station that sells the name brand coffee. Much discussion breaks out over the travesty of the real Timmy's that is in the next building, but closes at an obscenely early hour. For shame. The boys are oohing and aahing and practically salivating waiting to get that delicious brew up to their wanting lips (getting kind of erotic heh?). I'm watching their faces and and feel the urge to get in on the action. There's got to be something to this. I tend to be a late bloomer and the time has come to join the frenzy. I wisely grabbed a medium cup, as the small was described to me as merely a thimble's worth. I prepared the sweetener and cream and thought to leave a little room for the coffee. On the lid went, a saunter up to the register, a quick exchange of cash and I officially became a Canadian. I thought I had done that many years before, but apparently this is the final requirement.

Now we flash to a scene being played out a few wet miles, ok kilometers, down the road. I'm halfway done my little medium energy in a cup and begin the caffeine bounce. My eyes are glazed, my speech rapid and my breathing uneven (again with the erotica - I think I need..........). "Where's the next Timmy's? Where's the next Timmy's?" I am anticipating the bottom of the cup and KNOW that this is my new best friend and must be with me at all times. I can't think about a thing - obsessed, compulsed, whatever. I NEED IT. We approach the city proper and I find some comfort in that there will be a dealer, I mean Tim Horton's, on every corner.

But, the inevitable happened. The after-effect. The nasty part about every addiction that's worth having. There has got to be a downside to all this goodness, naturally, or I'm certain I wouldn't like it. The stomach rot begins, my shaking is no longer on par with my energy level, and the crash has begun.

So, to the point. I have an addictive personality. I can hear all that know me laugh out loud here. "No kidding!" they're saying. Well yes, it's true and I wouldn't even begin to deny it . That would be foolish and futile. I have said on many occasions that I wish I could be addicted to something that was good for my mind, body, or soul. But no, that would be too easy. I regularily trade one addiction in for another, kind of like rotating them so they don't get stale. It's become a game for me to try and guess which one I'll give up and what will replace it. Hey - I suggest a pool! Oh wait, that would be gambling, which of course is one of my addictions that is currently on the backburner. Maybe not a great idea to arouse that demon.

Ok - here's a game. For those that choose to play and actually know me, please send me a list of all the things I'm currently addicted to. Perhaps in email form , yukschick@hotmail.com would be best. Although that does remove the fun comment part of this, I don't need ALL my shit out there. If you've known me for a long time, then you could add a subsiduary list of the things I USED to be a addicted to. Doesn't this sound like fun? I will try to come up with a grand prize for whoever gets the closest to the truth. How about an office party for you and 19 of your.............. or an XL steaming cup of..................

D.

By the way - I'm on Timmy's now. I feel it coursing through my body like the drug it is. I wrote this in 2.4 minutes. I really meant to take a serious look at addictions, but Timmy is also a publicity whore and took over the post. Not my fault.