(An Ode to the Unplugged Tim’s Table)
A gentle rant from rainy Fredericton about cafés with Wi-Fi
—and nowhere to plug in.
🎧 Listen to this as a podcast
This piece is now a full episode of the iLearn.tw / rosscline.com Radio Podcast: “Tim Hortons: No WiFi, No Outlets (Ross Reads)”.
There’s a special kind of heartbreak that happens in downtown Fredericton: you duck into Tim Hortons out of the rain, laptop on life support, already picturing an Iced Capp and a turkey sandwich, and—hallelujah—strong, fast Wi-Fi. You place your order. You find a seat. You reach for the lifeline…and there isn’t one. No outlet. Not even a shy little two-prong hiding under the bench.
This is where it gets almost cruel—mostly to the staff. Because it’s not their fault, but they’re the ones who have to say, “Sorry, we don’t have plug-ins anymore,” and then stand there with you in the awkward silence while your hopes (and your battery) circle the drain. They don’t know where else to send you, and honestly, neither do you. So you sit with your beautiful sandwich and a very expensive aluminum coaster.
And look, I get it. Coffee shops aren’t meant to be co-working spaces. Nobody’s asking for a forest of extension cords or for folks to set up camp for eight hours on one muffin. But Tim Hortons already offers good Wi-Fi—because people use it. That’s the pact: buy a drink, do a bit of work, mind your manners, go on your way. The missing piece is the tiniest one: a single place to plug in so the Wi-Fi actually matters when your laptop is gasping.
What makes it extra maddening is the roulette. Some locations have outlets. Some covered them. Some…who knows. You don’t find out until your battery hits 3% and your dignity hits zero. Meanwhile, the crew at the counter gets to deliver the bad news again and again, like bouncers at a nightclub for wall sockets.
Here’s the friendliest fix imaginable: designate one table—just one—with one outlet. Stick a small sign above it: “Emergency Power—30-minute courtesy.” That’s it. One outlet per store. One nerd rescued per hour. Your Wi-Fi keeps its purpose; your staff keeps their sanity; your customers keep coming back with grateful hearts and charged laptops.
Sure, I could trudge to Starbucks and stop my moaning. But Tim Hortons is supposed to be Canada’s living room, and living rooms usually have somewhere to plug in the lamp. So consider this a gentle nudge from a rain-soaked, parched, productivity-hungry customer: give us one little lifeline, and you’ll never have to read pieces like this again.
Just my two cents—typed on 2% battery.
