Extra-large, Please
Someone gave me a gift – a little clipping torn off from the rim of a Tim Hortons coffee cup – and I was told that I could get a free coffee. Value does not matter: to get something for free always makes me happy.
I have never won anything in my life and never believed in lottery. I don’t understand why so many people religiously buy lottery week after week, month after month, year after year, for something that is almost certain never comes true. When someone waves a newspaper clipping to show me someone has just won $20 millions, I laugh it off by saying that there are millions of people have just watched their money going down the drain. In order to prove me wrong, someone gave me this clipping of Tim Hortons coffee cup to show there are people winning something on a daily basis.
A gift is something different. Something free. Something I definitely enjoy.
It was a Sunday morning, I set off to a Tim Hortons with this torn-off clipping to claim someone else’s win.
Inside the Tim Hortons, there was already a line before the counter. I noticed that no one was buying an extra-large coffee. Except for long-distance truck drivers, it would sound ridiculous to buy an “extra-large double double” and that was exactly what I would do.
When it was my turn to order, I proudly and ceremoniously put my Tim Hortons clipping on the counter and in my best voice, ordered an ex-large double double. It would be a dumb thing not to go for the largest size when it was free. But coming here only for the free coffee would also make me appear silly. So I expertly chose a donut to go with the coffee. I could almost feel the envious stares from the line behind me. Yeah, free coffee, extra-large, on Sunday morning.
The server came back shortly with my order and said coldly “one extra-large double bouble, one donut, $2.35”. That must be a mistake. A donut only cost 50 cents something. So I emphatically pointed at the Tim Hortons clipping which was still on the counter, and said, “no, no, no, the extra-large double double should be free, not donut. Of course I will use this free coupon on coffee, otherwise, I wouldn’t have ordered an extra-large coffee, would I?” The server smiled, picked up the Tim Hortons clipping, held it using her two fingers several inches in front of my nose and said, “Sir, this coupon wins a free donut, not coffee. Donut is free.” Then I realized I did not read small words on the torn-off clipping. That was truly awkward. Normally, I had several solutions to deal with this kind of situation: one, pretend I did not understand English very well. But that option was gone because I used flawless English made the order; two, apologize to the server that I had some roll-up clippings from Tim Hortons and picked wrong one in a rush and would like to return this stupid, over-sized coffee. But, I never heard anyone have returned a cup of coffee.
It must be a full minute while I was debating mentally what to do with this extra-large coffee. The line behind me got longer and impatient shuffling and breathing grew louder. Very reluctantly, I paid for the coffee.
To salvage the remnant of my dignity, I held my head high, scooped up the donut and the extra-large coffee – probably the only extra-large coffee they had sold on that day – marched out of the Tim Hortons. The moment I was outside of the Tim Hortons, there was a laughter bursting out behind me.
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