For the first week of March, I didn’t understand why my friends were rolling up the rims of their coffee cups. I didn’t know whether it was a Canadian thing, a recycling thing, or a weird habit they all picked up from each other.
After that week, I finally came around to asking them what they were doing. I can honestly say I wish that I continued living in such blissful ignorance.
By now, the only people who don’t know what Roll Up the Rim is are either a) living under a rock, or b) Australian, but I’ll humour you. When you buy a hot drink at Tim Hortons over the course of the promotion, it comes in a fancy promotional cup. You finish your drink, take off the lid, and roll up the rim of the cup to see if you’ve won anything.
It reminds me of the “Lick a Prize” promotion of Paddlepops, an Australian popsicle made of angel hair, sunshine, and happiness that I miss dearly. You lick away the ice cream, and underneath you have the chance of getting another free Paddlepop, a “second chance draw,” or part of another prize. I have more sticks announcing I have won one third of a bicycle than I can count.
But I digress. Roll Up the Rim has now taken over my life. I walk to Timmies at least three times a day, an action so repetitive that the walk from Village 1 to the SLC for my near bi-hourly cup has become something akin to a pilgrimage, with a prize I’m not even sure I want.
I don’t want the prize, though. I want to win. Every time I roll/bite up that ridiculous rim, I lose myself in a dizzying daydream, where I actually win something. Each failed cup is Tim Hortons winning the battle, but not the war.
I don’t really like coffee. It’s always made me feel ill, which would be a nightmare for some students. However, my general lack of sleep in the first place means that caffeine is something that I should, but don’t, avoid.
Not enjoying coffee is just a thing for me. I do, however, love cinnamon rolls. If cinnamon rolls came with a Roll Up the Rim tab, I’d be set. Unfortunately for my taste buds cinnamon rolls do not count, so I resort to purchasing a caramel hot chocolate or tea in an attempt to win. Neither taste particularly great.
Considering I don’t actually like the drinks I’m buying, and I’ve never won anything, I’m the typical mindless consumer at Timmies. I’m their target demographic: competitive people who become so enamored with winning that it becomes an obsession. I might as well throw money at their windows.
Is death by sugar-induced coma worth it? Do the ends justify the means? All of this, just to satisfy my ultimate goal of pretending to be Canadian for another two months? The answer is yes, and it tastes like caramel hot chocolate.