Large Triple-Triple with an Apple Fritter
Spike paused in his stride when he reached the corner of the street, blinked, then took a few steps back. He looked at the strange building he never saw before in his life, and almost believed it to be some joke for some nearby hidden cameras. But when he wagged his head about looking for them, he only found other ponies going about their day. s
“Huh.” Spike looked back to the building. “I thought these only existed in, like, Canada. I thought Twilight told me that was a made up country?”
Yet the establishment stood before him. Past the pane of glass, he could see ponies inside, ordering coffee and other such treats, while others sat at the many tables and discussed meaningless things. Some ponies were even lounging about in the few sofas sprinkled throughout the place.
“I guess I could go inside,” Spike said in hesitation, hearing the buzzing of the sun overhead. He approached the strange glass door and pushed it opened, relishing in the oncoming wave of coolness made possible by AC, before approaching and opening yet another door.
Then Spike stepped inside the Tim Hortons.
The air was kinda stuffy but it wasn’t unbearable – there was an odor but it wasn’t too prominent. The floors were mopped and the wood shined, yet there was a second-rate feeling to them despite their best efforts.
Spike began to walk through the establishment, not quite use to seeing televisions – especially not ones hanging on the walls and above fireplaces. The ponies he brushed past were kinda odd in themselves, yet he could not tell just what it was that made them different, as they continued to drone about.
Finally, the drake reached what he presumed to be the line. It wasn’t too long nor was it short. The ponies in front of him would sometimes glance over their shoulders to look at him, though they would present that they were looking at something else entirely.
Spike couldn’t bear himself to make a fuss about it as he caught sight of the menu to the joint. “I guess I should pick out what I’m going to eat and drink.”
The only problem was that the writing was too small. Try as he might to squint his eyes and stroked his non-existent beard, he just couldn't tell what the distant words were saying. He decided then to just listen to what the pony in front of the line was ordering, and then just order that.
And then the griffin that was standing in front of him began shouting in a tongue, not one of his own. A course of shivers ran through the drake’s body as he leaped up into the air, giving a small yelp, before landing on the ground again.
The griffin passed by him as he tried shouting almost into his own ear. Spike saw some weird black device hovering over his ear canal, sporadically making small beeping noises as its owner walked out of the coffee joint.
Spike scratched the side of his head. Those before him in line were giving him dirty looks. He wondered why for a brief moment, before he realized that the line had moved up ahead and he was taking up space.
He offered an apologetic smile before taking his proper place. The menu was closer now, and if he squinted his eyes really hard, then he would be able to make out the menu. But there was only one issue:
The menu seemed to change every five seconds.
“Oh come on,” Spike said under his breath, his shoulders coming to slump as he leaned left. “It’s almost my turn and I got nothing to order!”
The ears of the black pegasus in front of him flicked upward as they heard his words, their owner turning around to greet the drake. He had eyes that were both green and blue and a crazy mane, and his face seemed to be etched in perpetual disappointment.
Yet the pegasus gave him a small smile. “Having trouble deciding what you want?”
Spike gave a breath of relief. “Totally. You got any suggestions?”
“Hmm.” The pegasus pinched his lips as he leaned slightly back. “I don’t know what you’re about, so I can’t really recommend anything. I always get a large triple-triple to keep my mind from stopping and an apple fritter to stop my stomach from growling.”
Spike thought about it for a moment.
“But you should take a look through the glass to see what kind of food you want to eat, and see what kind of drink they have that you would like to drink.” That small smile disappeared in an instant as the pegasus turned around, and a moment later, was called.
“Next in line!”
The pegasus went to the counter and ordered his order, while Spike took his place. The drake looked at the shelves just to the right and life of the register, where behind a pane of glass, there were many treats to behold. Donuts, muffins, everything of the like.
“Sugarcube Corner is going to be pissed,” Spike muttered to himself as his eyes flitted over the selection, nothing quite catching his attention. The food looked good from afar, but upon closer inspection, most of it looked rather stale. “On second thought, maybe they’ll do just alright.”
Spike then glanced over to the staff behind the counter, frowning at what he saw. It was just a clatter of plates, mugs, and chatter over on their side. It seemed all so very stressful, as there were a constant steam and workers shuffling past each other.
Workers were yelling orders while others were jumping from task to task. Everything microwave would beep every other moment, a kettle would hiss only to be replaced by another, and the staff looked as if they were going to fall apart.
Spike preferred the calm image of Sugarcube Corner much more.
“Next!”
“Huh?” Spike looked to the register to see the crazy mane pony taking his coffee in his wing and the apple fritter in his mouth. He paid the drake one final glance, before walking out of the coffee store.
“Sir! I said I could help who’s next!”
“Oh crud.” Spike quickly shuffled over to the counter with an apologetic smile plastered to his lips, looking to the solemn yet cheerful cashier on the other side. “Sorry about that. I'm not really used to this kinda get-up so I—”
“Welcome to Tim Hortons,” the female on the other side said, both aware and unaware of his presence. “What can I get for you?”
“Uhh.” His eyes quickly flitted to the menu only to find all the drink unappealing. Then down to the stale treats. Spike couldn’t make up his mind. “Could you give me a moment?”
The ponies behind him grumbled; Spike gulped.
“On second thought, I’ll just get a large triple-triple with an apple fritter.”
“That will be four bits please.”
“Uh, sure.”
Spike paid that which he owed.
“Thank you.” Her eyes jumped to the next customer. “You’re coffee and snack will be to the side. Have a good day.”
“You as well?” Spike quickly stepped out of the way as the griffon behind him took his place, making him wait by the other counter for something to happen.
“Your order, sir.” A voice behind him had said. By the time Spike had turned around, the employee was already gone, though his cup and snack awaited him there. Not quite knowing what to do or say, he simply picked up his purchase, and went to go take a seat by the window.
He waited a few moments before even looking at his coffee or treat. For some reason, he didn’t feel like wanting to do anything with them just yet, as he looked around to the fellow patrons.
It felt to him as if he was the only one there alone. Ponies were talking with smiles and the ones by themselves were on some weird devices, while he just sat there alone. It was almost like everyone else was unaware of his presence, yet he was aware of theirs.
Finally, Spike opened up the small bag and took out the apple fritter. He then opened the small lid and brought both to his lips. He then took a bite, then a sip, and continued to sit there.
And then Spike contemplated his life.
