Don't worry. I'm not about to write about Charlie Sheen. That kind of crazy has been seen enough over the last two weeks. There's nothing winning about it. He's spiraling and the amount of publicity over his demise is somewhat nauseating. The winning I'm talking about is the actual kind... receiving something you didn't have before for free or with proof of purchase.
Canadians take their coffee consumption very seriously, especially when that coffee comes from Tim Horton's. In certain areas of the country you could throw a cat and hit at least five of the establishments. Have you ever been to Hamilton, Ontario? Except, of course, the 10-minute drive I took to Cell Block C. It's the only stretch of road with nary a Tim Horton's in sight. There's not even a coffee shop. The horror. I've bought about five coffees since my escape from the joint. Considering I had at least one coffee a day six days a week, it's a considerable downsize. And, now that the Roll Up the Rim contest is on, I expected to win at least one coffee or doughnut in the contest's duration. Those ain't good odds. But this year is different. I've bought five coffees. To-date, I've "won" three coffees and one doughnut.
The Man has since threatened me with bodily harm and told me in no uncertain terms to shut the hell up. Not very hospitable, I know, especially since he's already benefited from at least one of my wins. So while he's plotting my murder and keeping my winning stash of Roll Up the Rim wins, I'm heading out to buy a lotto ticket. I'm figuring if on a roll (get it?) with my coffees, the lottery is the next obvious step.
I may be pushing my luck, but I now have it in writing if I end up pushing up daisies. If The Man is so vicious with just a winning coffee cup, can you imagine if my numbers are chosen over his? So to the detectives investigating my suspected murder case, it was the boyfriend. It always is. Especially if there's coffees involved.