Amid Canada’s housing crisis, to live in a coffee shop isn't all that unusual

A middle-aged man in gold chains and Adidas shorts is yelling loudly into a phone about “politically correct maggots” and making racist slurs. Another man, wearing black dress shoes with a leather jacket, sleeps facedown on a table, raising his head periodically in his sleep and puckering his lips. Neither arouses any obvious interest from the other customers.

It is not surprising that a permanently homeless man would feel as though he could blend into this Vancouver branch of Tim Hortons, a 24-hour donut and coffee shop, at all hours. This is where Ted came every day for 10 years. Staff members and regulars alike knew his rolling suitcase, his handlebar mustache and his scowling disposition. It was not unusual to find him sleeping in the restaurant.

But when another homeless friend found Ted slumped over a table at 3am on the last day of May this year, he thought the way Ted’s head rested askew on the edge of the table did not look right. The friend noticed a bad smell, saw black bile pooling on the table and touched Ted’s hands: they were cold.

Still, staff were so used to Ted