Gather ’round, children. It’s time for Old Man Ryan to tell you a story.
Ryan was on his way to work like any other day. He had gotten off the bus a little bit earlier than expected, because of the decrease in traffic and bus ridership caused by the coronavirus pandemic. With that extra time, he decided to go into the Tim Horton’s at the bus stop and purchase a coffee.
Having made the transaction, and now the proud owner of an excessively large cup of coffee, Ryan continued on his pilgrimage towards his workplace. The cup was leaking ever so slightly, as Tim Horton’s cups always do, so he was constantly adjusting his grip on it to avoid having the droplets get all over his hand.
But then, about halfway through his journey, the coffee spontaneously exploded. Without warning, the structural integrity of the cup gave way, causing the lid to jet off into the sky, followed by a glorious shower of scalding-hot, brown liquid. Fortunately, Ryan’s reflexes were sharp enough that he was able to dodge the worst of the eruption and save himself from being drenched in coffee. His hands were covered and one of his sleeves was mildly sprayed, but the situation could have unfolded much more unfavourably.
Quickening his steps to get into work and begin cleaning himself off, Ryan mused on what a happy coincidence it was that he’d chosen to wear his brown sweater that day. He was also relieved that the coffee was hot enough to be uncomfortable, but not so much that I would actually cause any damage to his now coffee-drenched hands.
Ryan later recounted his tale to his boss, and boss made him feel less inept by saying that he himself had had this happen before, and it had most likely been caused by the lid having not been affixed properly. Ryan still kind of liked the idea that he didn’t know his own grip strength, but he was happy to accept this version of reality where he was not at fault.
And that’s the tale of why Ryan never went to Tim Horton’s ever again.