Idle Hands

For the first time ever I did something I knew was illegal and I enjoyed it. Even when I speed, roll through a stop sign, or jaywalk (I guess you can see how straight-laced I am) I still have that feeling in my gut that screams, 'I hope I don't get busted!'

Tonight on my commute home from work I got stuck in traffic. The O.C. started in an hour and I'm stuck at a dead stop in Atlanta traffic. Not one lane is moving except the HOV lane next to me. No one was in it. My knuckles tightened around the steering wheel and if I miss a minute of this show I'm going to be pissed.

I looked at the HOV lane. I reasoned that it ends in a mile or so- two miles at tops- and then it just becomes a regular lane. After the crappy day of abuse I took at the office, I screamed an explitive and pulled in the HOV lane. 'I'm going to do this and I'm going to get away with it' I decided. 35...45...55 miles an hour! I'm driving in this wonderful lane and I must have passed two hundred cars. As I'm passing them this bubble of laughter rises up inside me. The more cars I pass, the louder it becomes until I'm cruising down the highway in a shoulder shaking, finger pontificating, evil, maniacal laughter.

Just when the HOV lane ends, traffic parts and I get home the exact second The O.C. starts. I've never done anything like that guilt free before and it felt great.