We started meeting there because they were open all night, unlike the coffee shop where we had been meeting which closes at 10pm. By choosing Tim Horton’s, we were able to push our meeting time back so we could all tuck our kids (and spouses) into bed for the night before going out to write.
At some point, our local Tim’s changed their hours and now they close at 11pm. And that’s fine. But since they now have a definite closing time, I finally worked up the courage to ask a very important question.
“Out of curiosity,” I said to the clerk who had just taken my order for the least expensive drink they offer, “what happens to the donuts at the end of the night.”
He pointed to a garbage can. “They all get thrown away,” he said.
“Hmm,” said I. “My friends and I frequent this establishment weekly, often leaving as the only customers at closing time. Do you think it might be possible to throw them away to us?”
“Here is your drink, sir,” he said.
I went and sat down.
My writers group had a good time of writing and chatting and such, and sure enough, we were the last people there. The employees were systematically shutting everything down for the evening when I caught the gentleman’s attention who had helped me earlier and conversationally asked, “So, have you thrown those donuts away yet?”
“Not yet,” he said, then quickly moved on to the next step of the closing procedures.
I think somehow he missed my hint. Here I was, thinking that I could be the hero of breakfast time in the morning, providing my family with a bounty of day-old free donuts, but he missed my vision.
“Well, have a good night,” I called out as I pushed open the locked door to come home.
“Good night,” he called back.
It was a good night, but it could have been better, Mr. Tim Horton’s Employee Who Throws Away Donuts To Spite Me.