Wednesday, November 02, 2005

Traficking

Ok, so there’s this stoplight, right? It’s on Hamilton Mountain, at Upper Sherman and Mohawk road. Now this stoplight, like many others, has an advanced green signal. But unlike other, more sensible traffic lights, this freaking intersection keeps its advanced turn signal on 24 hours a day.

So if you’re heading west-bound on Mohawk road at 3:30 in the morning, and are unlucky enough to get caught by a red light at Upper Sherman, you will have to wait another 30 seconds for the advanced green signal for traffic going in the other direction. The advanced green signal helping out all the cars that aren’t there trying to turn. Because lord knows, if there were a car there waiting to turn, it would be utterly unable to do so thanks to the large lineup of vehicles, that consists entirely of my car and some bastard in a Volvo that’s 550 yards down the road behind me and won’t even make that light anyway.

The worst thing is, it’s been like this for seriously more than 15 years. You’d think that in 15 freaking years, some bozo in the City Works department would have noticed the light, and said “You know what? I don’t really think this intersection needs an advanced green signal between the hours of 1:00 am and 6:00 am. Let’s shut it off during that time.” I don’t know what they think; I can’t claim to be able to read the minds of civil servants. However, I am relatively certain that their thoughts are about neither civility nor service.

The universe has been fucking with me tonight. I’m doing pretty good about sticking to this diet thing. I’ve stayed within my limits, and I haven’t eaten a single chicken wing. Some people say, “Oh, just have one, that won’t hurt you”. Right. The problem is, it is actually impossible to eat only one chicken wing. Ask a quantum physicist, he’ll back me up on this.

Gary and I decided to go over to Matt’s Sports Bar, see if we could do some performance, sing a few songs, etc. Matt’s was closed, so I decided it would be fun to drive across the city to Cagney’s Pub – the pub my dad used to go to in order to drink and ignore his family. But I digress. We get there, and lo and behold, it’s freaking 25-cent wing night. Fuck me sideways.

I ignore the temptation, and Gary feels the need to point out the fact that it is 25-cent wing night, just in case I had managed to somehow miss the many signs, and what I needed at that moment was a gentle fucking reminder of yet another wonderful thing I can’t have because I’m on a diet. Then the waitress came over, took our drink orders, and she reminded me that it was 25-cent wing night.

Apparently, 25-cent wing night isn’t enough for Cagney’s. No, not by far. Thursday nights are $2.00 a pound wing night. No more tedious addition, a pound of wings for 2 lousy bucks.

I thanked the waitress, and informed her that I couldn’t have wings, as I was dieting. She suggested that I have the wings, but leave the sauce off. I kid you fucking not. I informed her that, in my opinion, it was not so much the thin tomato-based sauce that was the cause of problems, but rather the several long minutes the wings spent soaking in boiling hot fat.

Now to be fair, the annoying stoplight and the super-cheap specials on wings were the only really annoying thing that has happened to me tonight. I did a new piece of art that I really like, I added about 5,000 words to my novel, and I went out and saw a free comedy show at Slainte’s here in the city. Overall, a very productive and fun day.

But I wish somebody would fix that fucking stoplight.

6 comments:

Paula said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Paula said...

Let me tell you a mental trick. The reality is that we are limited. You must accept the idea that you will fall off the wagon and be tempted by chicken wings.
The more you resist something, the greater your attachment to it becomes.
In order to release your wing attachment, you mustn't resist. You must yield.
So by accepting this limitation that you will fall and be seduced by wings, you increase your odds of success.
If we prepare ourselves mentally for losses and failure and errors, it makes it easier to engage in successful behaviour, and at the same time, removing unnecessary emotional reactions. You will be behaving more objectively and thereby reducing your attachment to the wings.
No go and do my friend.

BStrong said...

The lights in the community where we live go to flashing yellow at 1am. As for the wings, great job holding back and the comment made by the waitress about the sauce is the reason she's a waitress.

What kind of novel are you writing?

B

Asher Hunter said...

First off, let me say that I have yielded to the wing temptation in the past. Many, many times. Thats why I weighed 280 pounds. I think maybe that while Steiner may know a lot of things, he don't know jack shit about dieting.

The novel is fiction, set in the semi-near future, and deals with Armageddon. While the tone is light, I also don't pull the dark punches.

The basic concept is a nice young man who, through an accident, is enlisted as a general in Hell's armies.

Anonymous said...

I see,
"Pale Horse-ish"

Rach said...

Oh wings, glorious wings.....

I am so weak.....

Ash if you ever decide to go wing hog-wild I'd be right there with ya!