Who do I speak to about a nickname?

Today I saw a Harley Hog boldly block an intersection with his bike so that two miles (literally) of buddies could pass through the red light without stopping. First of all, I wasn't aware this was legal. Is there a Harley Hog loophole for traffic light law that I'm not aware of? Secondly, I began wondering what it might be like to be someone else. If I weren't me, who would I be?

I'm definitely thinking biker chick. But I'd have to ride a Honda or whatever the fast bikes are, because, although I can rock a bandanna like it's nobody's business, my hair isn't long enough to fix into those Willie Nelson braids. Better to go with mysterious biker chick. Yeah, mysterious. Picture me arriving at my destination--at dusk, always at dusk--, dismounting my bike, gracefully removing my helmet, and performing one of those cool slow motion hair flips. Maybe there could be some fog creeping in as I strut towards the setting sun. This, of course, would happen whenever and wherever I arrive, because I will be an amazingly cool biker chick.

Nailed it. Yeah, I did.

I'm neurotic today because...
...going 61 mph in a 40 mph speed zone whilest daydreaming about becoming a biker chick and coming away with a written warning could only happen to me, suburban soccer mom. Today it was good to be me.