Johnny drifted into a much-needed nap after dropping his bags by the wall of his motel room. After the nap, he regained some energy and decided to go for a walk. Huge frame and all, standing in front of the motel, he was perplexed: why would a town this nice be so deserted?
There was a building about two stories high across the street, covered with movie posters. “Yes! A cinema within walking distance,” he thought to himself. But he couldn't figure out the entrance to the building, so he asked the motel receptionist for directions. That was when he learned that it was a holiday, the cinema was closed, and buses were running fewer trips with shorter hours.
While walking and getting familiar with the neighborhood, he thought of fast-food brands he wanted to try so badly—brands he had only seen in TV commercials back home. Subway was one of them. A few minutes later, he spotted a Subway across the street, and he had to check if they were open. Upon reaching the intersection where he was supposed to cross, something strange happened. The traffic signals didn’t change as he expected. Two cycles had completed without the pedestrian signal switching to "Go."
This was the wrong time to be confused because the anticipation of trying a Sub for the first time was clouding his thought process. He waited one more cycle just to confirm if it was a glitch. When it didn’t change, he damned the consequences and made it across at the next gap in traffic. To his delight, Subway was open. He phoned a former high-school classmate for some tips—chicken teriyaki, cheddar cheese, veggies, and honey mustard sauce on toasted Italian buns was the recommendation!
About 5 minutes later, he got the sandwich and hit the road, tracing his steps back to his motel room. Approaching the same intersection from the opposite end this time, he cursed the idea of either waiting too long for the pedestrian signal to change or just walking across like he did before. While waiting for his crossing opportunity—or for the signal to change, whichever came first—he lowered his gaze to admire his sandwich. Smirking at it, his eyes caught something else on the steel post next to him.
It read, "TO CROSS, PUSH BUTTON," with an arrow pointing in the direction he was trying to cross. Face-in-palm, he pushed the button. And in seconds, the pedestrian signal switched to "Go."
He whispered to himself, “Canada - 1, Johnny - 0.”