Read it in The Bloomin Onion
A middle-aged man, Mike, is hanging around outside Tim Hortons, opening the door for customers. He’s got a garbage bag for a raincoat, soaked and soiled trousers, and Forrest Gump’s hair and beard. Some random fellow, hood up, comes through the open door, an extra-large drink in hand. Without even looking at Mike, he passes him a twenty, says, “Happy Thanksgiving,” and is gone in an instant....