Dear Tim Horton's Guy

Dear Tim Horton's Guy,

I don't know your name, because either you don't wear a name badge, or I have never bothered to look at it in the course of our seven year relationship... so you have two choices.  Because you look alarmingly like David Boreanaz, you can be "Guy who looks like David Boreanaz" or "Tim Horton's Guy".  Since most people don't like being defined by their profession, especially if it involves a drive-thru window, I'm going with "Guy who looks like David Boreanaz".  Oh, and a bonus... I'm ridiculously attracted to David Boreanaz and I wish to have his babies... so, yeah, you're welcome.

Anyways.  Thank you, David Boreanaz look-alike, for your ever faithful service to me at the Tim Horton's drive-thru window.  You have worked there since before I started college, which was, you know, like AGES ago, back when Miley Cyrus was still adorable, and you have never failed to deliver my Timbits with utmost excellence.  In fact, the other day, I'm pretty sure I saw you grab just enough Timbits for me out of SOMEONE ELSE'S waiting box... which kind of made my day.

And speaking of making my day, today's exchange was another perfect example.  I mean really.  Here it is.

You: You're going to turn into a Timbit you know

Me: (Smiling only because you look like David Boreanaz, anyone else could not get away with commenting on my eating habits at the drive thru) ...and french fries, and grilled cheese sandwiches.

You: What?

Me: Those are the other things I eat.  Yes, I eat like a five year old, I know.

You: (laughing) That's awesome.  You're awesome.  Have a great day.

Ahem... I'M AWESOME!  Furthermore, by looking like an actor that I'd like to have babies with, you have inadvertently reinforced this notion I have that said actor ALSO realizes my awesomeness and/or knows I exist.  So good work, buddy, bet you didn't know you were actually serving Timbits AND a side of reinforcing delusional relationships with actors who don't know I exist!

Now, I have one bone to pick with you, Guy Who Looks Like David Boreanaz... this morning... there was a little bit of JELLY on one of my honey dip Timbits.  Now let's get one thing straight here.  I don't like jelly.  If I did, I would probably order donuts that contained it.  Since I do not like it, I choose donuts that do not contain it.  Therefore, contaminating one of my precious fried-dough morsels with the sticky substance is a serious offense.  I mean, I had to actually get a napkin and wipe it off before I could eat that Timbit.  This caused me some deal of anguish.

That all said, I'm going to let it slide, Guy Who Looks Like David Boreanaz.  Why, you ask?  What makes you deserving of my forgiveness after such a heinous offense?  Well, Guy Who Looks Like David Boreanaz, the answer is simple.  You look like David Boreanaz.  You tell me I'm awesome.  Now I feel like David Boreanaz thinks I'm awesome.  For that, I'm willing to overlook the offending jelly.

BUT - I do have to warn you, David Boreanaz-look-alike - my forgiveness only goes so far.  This jelly-on-non-jelly-containing-donut thing must not be repeated... because sooner or later, I'm going to inadvertantly start resenting you (and possibly also the actual David Boreanaz) for the contamination of my breakfast foods.  So, if you'd like our wonderfully fulfilling relationship to continue in the fashion it has for the last seven years, perhaps you should develop some sort of jelly detection system, and then only give contaminated Timbits to other customers who are less awesome than me.  Just a suggestion.

In closing, Guy Who Looks Like David Boreanaz, besides the jelly incident this morning, I think you are awesome too.  The only way in which you could possibly be more awesome is if you were ACTUALLY David Boreanaz.  Then we would make babies.  But since that's sadly not the case, just keep up the good work - the more you feed my delusions about my relationship with said actor, the more of your tasty Timbits I'll devour.  Wait.  Why did that sound sexual?  Ugh.  Anyways.  No more jelly.  Reinforce belief that David Boreanaz thinks I'm awesome.  Do those two things and we're golden, got it?

But remember my fickle forgiveness... keep up the jelly thing, and I may be forced to go to Jolly Pirate.  David Boreanaz does not look at all like a pirate, and you would be unable to sell more of your delicious breakfast to me, which I'm sure gives you great fulfillment... so I don't see that going well for either of us.
Much love, Guy Who Looks Like David Boreanaz.
XOXO,
Katie