[In an attempt to expand his insular perspective, Rendar Frankenstein became An American in Canada! Join Rendar as he tells of the wonders encountered while traveling through North America’s most jovial nation. It’s one-third travel guide and three-fourths misguided interpretation!]

The greatest attribute of any chemical dependency is its steadfast resolve. Olympic athletes may have an incredible level of focus, but even their efforts are diminutive when saddled next to those of an honest addiction. There are no external forces that’ll curb the insatiable appetite of a chemically-inspired jonesin’.

So even though I’d crossed borders and time zones, I still had that damn monkey on my back.

However, if you’re anticipating sordid tales about my forfeiture of oral dignity in exchange for heroin, you’re likely to be disappointed. I know, I know, I’d be much more artistically inclined if I used the drug preferred by the great songwriters of my generation and my parents’. Moreover, if I was going to break drug laws in another country, I might as well jump to the zombie-conclusion and rock some bath salts.

But alas, I’m a simple man and my substance of choice is good `ole fashioned caffeine.

As such, I had no doubt that I’d be able to cop a fix in Canada. After all, my two favorite types of caffeinated beverage – coffee and soda pop – are celebrated in every corner of Spaceship Earth. Nevertheless, there were some interesting differences in the modes of caffeine-delivery available to me during my Canadian adventure.

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