‘They show up with a van that looks like it’s been borrowed from a travelling hedgehog sanctuary, unload a few traffic cones and then immediately have a nap’

Now, picture the scene. You’re driving along, just minding your own business, thinking about how nice it would be if crisps were a vegetable, writes Daniel Brett.

Then, out of nowhere – BANG! Temporary traffic lights. Redder than a lobster in a sauna, just sat there, smug as you like, making you wait for no apparent reason.

And who’s behind it? Affinity Water and Cadent. They’re like the Chuckle Brothers of digging holes, only less co-ordinated and much more dangerous.

Let’s talk about these road works for a moment, shall we? Affinity Water turns up first. They’re the ones who deal with water, which is like liquid, but wetter.

They show up with a van that looks like it’s been borrowed from a travelling hedgehog sanctuary, unload a few traffic cones and then immediately have a nap.

That’s the thing about water – it’s very relaxing. They probably spend half the day just staring at puddles, wondering where it all went wrong.

Then Cadent arrives. Cadent, of course, handles gas, which is like air, but more explodey.

They don’t just dig holes – they create craters. The kind of holes that make you think, “Hang on, have we just found Atlantis?” And then they disappear. Not to another part of the road, oh no – they vanish completely, like a magician’s rabbit or a really shy ghost.

Now, here’s the thing about temporary traffic lights: they’re never temporary, are they? They’re like those friends who come over “just for a cuppa” and end up moving in. You could get married, raise a family and start knitting scarves for your great-grandchildren, and those lights would still be there. They’re basically the Stonehenge of modern Britain.

And the timing? Oh, it’s an absolute work of art. The lights stay red long enough for you to rethink your entire existence, question the meaning of life and write a screenplay about it. Then they flash green for exactly two seconds – just long enough for one car to go through, but only if it’s driven by a squirrel with a need for speed.

And the signs! “Works Expected Until Summer 2098.” What does that even mean? That’s not a timescale – it’s a prophecy.

And then there’s my favourite: “Delays Possible.” Possible?! It’s not a possibility; it’s a lifestyle. I’ve had shorter delays waiting for bread to rise in the Victorian era. “We will not tolerate abuse of our workers” – but what workers?!

But the real mystery is: what are they actually doing? Nobody knows. If you peer into one of their holes, you won’t see pipes or wires or even a bloke with a spanner. You’ll just see darkness, as if they’ve accidentally tunnelled into another dimension where time stands still and no one ever empties the bins. It’s like they took that Nietzsche quote about staring into the void and use it as a planning doctrine.

And sometimes – this is true – they leave their gear behind. You’ll see a lonely digger, parked at an angle that says, “I’ve given up.” It’s like an art installation called The Quiet Despair of Road Maintenance. I once saw a wheelbarrow with a cone in it, like a modern-day Trojan horse, but full of sadness instead of Greeks.

The worst is when Affinity Water and Cadent team up. It’s chaos. One digs a hole, the other fills it back in and then they both stand around scratching their heads, wondering why nothing’s changed. It’s like watching two dogs chase their own tails but with significantly more paperwork.

So there you have it. Affinity Water and Cadent: two organisations united by their love of road works and their complete inability to finish anything.

Next time you’re stuck at their lights, just remember: they’re not here to fix the roads. They’re here to remind us of life’s greatest truth – that everything is temporary, except for temporary traffic lights.