Speed queen

Today at work the News Hub got into a random discussion (as usual) about speeding. I don't know how the topic came up (probably inspired by a Newswatch posting, as usual) but everyone went around revealing the fastest speed they'd attained while driving.

Most impressive was JK's 130 mph on a Harley. Yikes.

Funniest was G's response to everyone's 100+ mph responses. His fasted was closer to 85 mph.

Most surprising, apparently, was my 115 (okay, really 120) mph response.

G and the other Hubsters just could not believe that young, innocent Alison was such a daredevil.

Frankly, I can't believe I ever did that either, but there's your exhibit A of teenagers' lack of risk adversity development in their brains. I was fearless at age 16, speeding home from cast parties at 1 a.m. on a dark Naper/Plainfield Rd.

"What else don't we know about you?" they asked me. "Do you have hidden tattoos? Smoke cigars? Have secret piercings?"

It was entertaining telling them how I smuggled a Cuban in from Prague and smoked it on the front steps of Benet after graduation.

Apparently they will never look at me the same.

But doesn't everyone have stories like that?

I was far from a wild child, but I had my moments of rebellion. Now they're lovely gems of my youth. And I plan to continue collecting them.

If anyone's reading this, what wild gems have you collected over your lifetime?