The Pork Cutlet Rice I Almost Missed: A 99-Second Distance

Working overtime until almost 6 PM tonight, my stomach was rumbling like a drum. I dragged my tired feet, with only one thought in my mind: I had to get that new pork cutlet rice place! The thought of golden, crispy, juicy pork cutlet made my steps unconsciously quicken. Seeing the sign just less than fifty meters ahead, the green light suddenly started flashing, as if mocking me: 'Come on! You can't catch me!' As a professional Taiwanese pedestrian, I had only two choices: transform into a 100-meter sprinter or resign myself to slowing down. I looked at the pork cutlet rice sign, hesitated for 0.5 seconds, and decided to sprint! But as soon as I took a big step, the traffic light mercilessly turned red. I froze awkwardly in front of the crosswalk, one foot out, the other stuck behind. And the countdown timer on the traffic light began to elegantly tick down from '99'. 99 seconds. This might be the longest distance in all of Taiwan. The pork cutlet rice was right across the street, its aroma seeming to waft over, but I was blocked at the door by these ninety-nine seconds. Standing by the roadside, I watched the motorcycles whiz by, almost feeling the sense of superiority from behind their helmets: 'Ha! You can't cross!'. When the countdown finally hit '0' and the green light turned on again, I had lost the energy to sprint. I walked across the crosswalk with heavy steps, looked at the pork cutlet rice sign I had longed for, and silently said in my heart: 'Pork cutlet rice, I'm finally here. Although, I'm a full 99 seconds later than planned.'