pregnancy test

The regular amount of stoners - 2 hungry and confused carloads - came through the drive-through last night. We also had a Hummer drive through around 1 a.m. that my co-worker, The Buddha Baker, projected was driven by a drug dealer. I agreed. The guy was unusually demanding about the contents of his small tea. He also had a crew with him and they all had strange orders - two small decafs with two creams each and an onion bagel toasted with nothing on it. Who orders decafs and teas at 1 a.m.? I wouldn't guess a guy in a Hummer with a crew.

Something odd was going on even if the guy wasn't a drug dealer, but the oddest thing last night wasn't the picky crew in the Hummer. At about 5 a.m., The Buddha Baker asked me to change the trash bag in one of the outside receptacles. It was raining, lightening in the sky and thunder in my ears, but whatever, when I trash bag has to be changed at Timmys we change it for the love of hockey and everything else good about Canada. To get to this particular receptacle The Buddha Baker and I had to walk along the path of the drive-through. She noticed some debris in the drive-through area and started to pick some up. About five feet away from the drive-through window there was a small box labeled: Pregnancy Test.

My initial thought was that we need to speed up our drive-through service if customers have time to take a pregnancy test while waiting for their coffee and donuts. But then I thought about all the condoms I have seen flung about in the drive-through lines at fast-food burger joints and I was happy to be working at Timmys, where people are more sensible.