Yep.  That's it.  The red light looks down at me and fixes me with a steely red glare. 

"Ok, just...don't get any in my eye."  And there I am, on my knees in the intersection, sucking off red lights all over town like some gay traffic whore.

No.  Wait.  What?  

I've been running red lights all over town.  Yeah.  There.  That sounds better.  Not so much like Smokey ON the Bandit, but rather Smokey AND the Bandit.  Maybe 'Smokey and the Bandit take a trip to a small midwestern town and discover their navels'.  Or something.  Because there is innate worth everywhere, you just gotta' have the right kind of eyes.

I pulled an interesting manuver the other day.  Sitting at the stop light, in the 'straight thru' lane, my mind wandered.  Across the intersection, the green arrow light turned on to clear out the turn lanes.

And I just WENT.

The other two turn lanes saw me coming and lurched to a stop.  I plowed out into the intersection in a large game of chicken involving many cars, and laid on the horn.  Pissed.  Making a hand waving gesture, as if to say 'COME ON!!!'.

They stopped.   It was as if it was all supposed to be. 

And I proceeded on my way.  Through the blatantly red light.  For no earthly reason whatsoever.

It didn't occur to me until later what I had just done.  Then I laughed like Satan running a convent as a bordello.