June 5: My Camp Day experience
I guess it's been about five
years now since I started volunteering my time at Tim Hortons for the
annual Camp Day fundraiser. I usually show up around lunch hour and they
put me on the drive-thru. When someone comes up to the electric board
thingee, I tell them who I am and that I am volunteering my time there
and then I ask them what they want.
Most of the time they just want coffee. Sometimes they want donuts. Sometimes they want four bowls of chili and three sesame seed bagels - two toasted one plain - one with herb and garlic cream cheese and one with butter and light cream cheese and two bottles of apple juice and one apple fritter. While they say this, I punch their orders into a computer terminal and, magically, they appear on computer monitors throughout the restaurant. Then Tim Hortons staff members go about preparing the meals and/or beverages.
Since it is camp day, I always ask the person if they want to donate $2 to "the send a kid to camp day thing."
Here is what they say 75 per cent of the time:
YES!!!
Here is what they say 15 per cent of the time:
I already donated when I was here earlier.
Here is what they say 14.97 per cent of the time:
No.
Here is what they say .03 per cent of the time:
No way. I hate kids.
I got the "I hate kids" person the first year I did the Tim Hortons drive-thru. She had ordered a small black coffee. Nothing else. Her voice sounded shrill, like her favourite thing to do was scream at people. I absolutely HAD to see what she looked like.
She was driving a white BMW. Her hair was mostly gray but there was a little bit of black in there too. It was pulled back in a bun. She was wearing dark glasses and she wore bright red lipstick and she was smoking a cigarette. She was shaking her head as she rolled down the window, probably because it took me 6.2 seconds to process her order instead of the usual 5.7. After taking hold of her coffee, she sped out of the parking lot like she was in a race. She was probably late for her meeting of the Grumpy Old Persons' Club, where she was about to be honoured with a lifetime membership.
I hope that lady got arrested for speeding and that she had to do community service at a day care for troubled kids. I hope one of the kids likes peeing in her hair. I hope another one likes to bite her ankles. And, most terrible of all, I hope one of them takes an inexplicable liking to her. He follows her around all the time and he calls her "Gammy Lady" and he wants to share his oatmeal raisin cookies with her.
I will not lie and say that, thanks to me, I brought in an extra $1,000 for Camp Day. The Tim Hortons CEO will never call to thank me for the six hours of volunteering I have done over the past six years. But this does not matter. What matters is that I usually get a free bagel and a free frozen lemonade and that makes it all worth it.
Oh yeah, and I get to send kids to camp too.
Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!
Most of the time they just want coffee. Sometimes they want donuts. Sometimes they want four bowls of chili and three sesame seed bagels - two toasted one plain - one with herb and garlic cream cheese and one with butter and light cream cheese and two bottles of apple juice and one apple fritter. While they say this, I punch their orders into a computer terminal and, magically, they appear on computer monitors throughout the restaurant. Then Tim Hortons staff members go about preparing the meals and/or beverages.
Since it is camp day, I always ask the person if they want to donate $2 to "the send a kid to camp day thing."
Here is what they say 75 per cent of the time:
YES!!!
Here is what they say 15 per cent of the time:
I already donated when I was here earlier.
Here is what they say 14.97 per cent of the time:
No.
Here is what they say .03 per cent of the time:
No way. I hate kids.
I got the "I hate kids" person the first year I did the Tim Hortons drive-thru. She had ordered a small black coffee. Nothing else. Her voice sounded shrill, like her favourite thing to do was scream at people. I absolutely HAD to see what she looked like.
She was driving a white BMW. Her hair was mostly gray but there was a little bit of black in there too. It was pulled back in a bun. She was wearing dark glasses and she wore bright red lipstick and she was smoking a cigarette. She was shaking her head as she rolled down the window, probably because it took me 6.2 seconds to process her order instead of the usual 5.7. After taking hold of her coffee, she sped out of the parking lot like she was in a race. She was probably late for her meeting of the Grumpy Old Persons' Club, where she was about to be honoured with a lifetime membership.
I hope that lady got arrested for speeding and that she had to do community service at a day care for troubled kids. I hope one of the kids likes peeing in her hair. I hope another one likes to bite her ankles. And, most terrible of all, I hope one of them takes an inexplicable liking to her. He follows her around all the time and he calls her "Gammy Lady" and he wants to share his oatmeal raisin cookies with her.
I will not lie and say that, thanks to me, I brought in an extra $1,000 for Camp Day. The Tim Hortons CEO will never call to thank me for the six hours of volunteering I have done over the past six years. But this does not matter. What matters is that I usually get a free bagel and a free frozen lemonade and that makes it all worth it.
Oh yeah, and I get to send kids to camp too.
Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!
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