WAGA: Wok And Go Anonymous

When did I realise that I had a slight addiction? I'd say it was when I woke up one morning and it was at the forefront of my mind. It was like a terrible pang, I was yearning like never before. A deep, deep longing that would need to be satisfied.

I went to work and it's all I could think about. Running through various scenarios of wonderful, happy moments partaking of this thing I woke up shivering for.  And when lunch time arrived I scurried to the shop somewhat foaming at the mouth as I bolted through the inviting doors. On entering this temple of satisfaction I began to get the familiar feverish sensation that I always get when inhaling the smells and processing the sights before my lustful eyes. I just need it so much. Is it love? I can't answer that, however, I can't and don't want to imagine my life without it. 

I have begun to recognise my own fiendish behaviour, it has become almost instinctual. I wake up and it is the first thing on my mind. "Surely not," I tell myself, not this early in the morning? There is an appropriate time for such activities. But the cravings ensue, they are unbearable, I shortly thereafter find myself bursting through the doors of the nearest distributor and ingesting their goods in minutes. "This has to stop!" I tell myself, surely I can moderate such indulgences? But the impulses endeavour further. This irresistible fix that soothes the itch, that eases the hunger, that quenches the desire... I must have it, I will stop at nothing, I will travel far and wide in search of a distributor. Nothing else will do, I am well and truly hooked.

Like every addict there comes a day when you hit rock bottom, and for me that fateful day came not so long ago.

I was recently settling out on a journey, travelling by train, and like a bottle of beer accompanies a televised football match there is no greater accompaniment to a long train journey. I had planned ahead, even boasting to my friend about my imminent treat. I had bought the tickets, made the reservations, packed my bag and was I on my way, I just had to make a quick pick up on route to the station; nothing too heavy, just enough to keep me going for the journey.

I sat down, making myself comfortable as the train chugged out, I reached into the brown paper bag and took out the box that contained my sweet sustenance. No sooner than I had brandished this sinful parcel I suddenly realised my catastrophic error... I had forgotten to pick up a fork! A fork, a simple plastic utensil was all that was standing between me and this most pleasurable experience.

I could scarcely believe it, I believe I was in a momentary denial as I checked the brown paper bag repeatedly for a plastic fork, a knife perhaps? A set of chopsticks? Anything! There must be something in here! They wouldn't do this to me, they couldn't! Why don't they just put them in the bag as a standard procedure? Anyone could forget to grab a fork on the way out, it is so easily done.

I rambled on to myself in dismay but it solved nothing, I had never felt a hunger like it. I looked all around for some form of tangible utensil fit for use. There was a guy with a McDonald's, he won't have a fork will he? I stared at him, still salivating for my supper as I pondered. He looked back and held his McDonald's bag close to his chest. Where could I possibly find a fork? The floor? The bin? The bathroom?!! Perhaps at the next stop I will have time to jump off the train and run to the nearest café and get one before the train moves off again?

Then it struck me, the buffet cart, it should be passing any minute now, I laughed an evil laugh to myself, but it never came. I paced up and down the train like a ravenous barbarian in search of the little uniformed woman that usually pushes the cart along the train intending to shake her down for her utensils. Still no luck, I sat back down a spent and dishevelled man, twitching and stirred in my seat, the hunger pain was agonisingly unbearable. There was only one thing left to do...

I ripped open the box and began to dig straight into this hot, oily melange of sweet meats, tender noodles and sultry spices. With my trembling fingers I scooped up as much as I could gather and gorged upon the delights of the orient until my heart was content. I felt a sudden calm, a blissful tranquillity - but this was short lived as I started to 'come down' and began to realise what I had done.

I now realise that I am in serious trouble, I need help, I cannot fight this addiction alone. We can't. Please, help me, help us.

Demola and David, TCC