When size definitely matters: How you order a coffee reveals what type of Canadian you are
By ROY MacGREGOR, Globe & Mail
There is a division in this country far more profound than all the other Two Solitudes in the history of Canada.
More telling than French-English, East-West, rich-poor, rural-urban, right-left, man-woman, beer-wine, winter-summer, car-truck, Old Canadian-New Canadian -- and even whether you like vinegar or ketchup on your fries.
It's Tim Hortons vs. Starbucks.
Since the first Tim Hortons opened in Hamilton in 1964 and the first Starbucks in Seattle seven years later, both coffee shops have gained cult status in this country.
It would be wrong, however, to presume they are even remotely the same apart from the colour of the hot water they pass over the counter.
Tim Hortons people believe that drinks come in three sizes: small, medium and large.
Starbucks people think that there are only big drinks and call them tall, grande and venti.
Starbucks drinkers see their drink as a fashion accessory and have been known to cart around the half-empty cardboard containers for hours, long past any possible point of consumption.
Tim Hortons drinkers see their drinks as coffee, drink them fast and quickly discard their finished cups -- with the exception of the annual Roll-Up-The-Rim campaign when older drivers drop them onto the floor of the back seat until they can get home to their reading glasses.
It is almost impossible to imagine a drive-through Starbucks, and even if there are some, one presumes the line moves up about once an hour after each exchange at the ordering stop:
"I'll have a double-double. . . No, make that a single-double French roast, please, with a small sprinkling of cinnamon."
"Double-single?"
"No, single-double."
"Single milk or single sugar."
"Milk. . . No, make it soy instead, please. And brown sugar."
"Is that all?"
"No, my friend will have a grande mocha Valencia. . ."
At Tim Hortons, there is no non-stop Frasier sitcom being filmed. People line up, either on their feet or in cars, and a precious order might be along the lines of, "Make that a decaf, if you don't mind."
At Tim Hortons, it is not necessary to spend an hour in front of the mirror practising your recital before ordering.
Those sitting in Starbucks are usually talking to someone who is not there -- either by cellphone or by e-mail.
Those sitting in Tim Hortons are always talking to someone who is there -- unless, of course, they are talking to themselves.
There are dry biscuits at Starbucks that sound better than they taste.
There are doughnuts at Tim Hortons that taste better than they sound.
Those who have brought something to read in Starbucks are acutely aware that others will be judging them by the cover. James Joyce is always a good choice in literature, The Economist a safe choice in magazines.
While it would be gratuitous and unfair to suggest those in Starbucks put on airs while those in Tim Hortons give off airs, it is quite all right to say that Tim Hortons customers read, if anything, the sports section of the free paper up front.
Those who sit writing in Starbucks are invariably working on a script.
Those who write in Tim Hortons are either doing the crossword or filling in an application form.
The fancier the neighbourhood, the more likely a Starbucks will be found on a nearby corner.
Tim Hortons stores defy any and all economic analysis. In fact, the tougher the times, the better the times it often seems at the local Tim Hortons.
If you need a cop, the last place to run to would be the closest Starbucks.
There is a Web site called The Oracle of Starbucks that purports to "tell you everything about your personality" by what you order.
When I typed in the name of the drink that was recommended at the nearest outlet, the Oracle concluded, somewhat accurately: "You don't go to Starbucks much; when you do you just tag along with other people since you have nothing better to do."
You would like to order a Tazo Chai Crème but don't know how to pronounce it. Most people who drink grande chocolat malt frappuccino are strippers."
There is no equivalent site for Tim Hortons. When I order my "medium, milk only, please" the Oracle of Tim Hortons presumes, correctly, that I am just another customer who wants a coffee.
No wonder, then, that when colleague John Stackhouse was searching for a title for his lovely book on travelling across Canada, he decided to go with Timbit Nation rather than Starbucks Nation. He was, after all, hitchhiking, not taking an airline limo across the country.
Starbucks might be more fashionable, but Tim Hortons and the other roadside stops are more reasonable.
They are also, perhaps, somewhat more secure.
They order small, medium or large.
Meanwhile, those who insist on tall, grande or venti as the only three choices sound rather more like condom customers than coffee drinkers.
globeandmail.ca |
