. . . yet nothing to do with my raucous exploits with West Wilts' top light entertainment & pop combo: it's this - personalised number plates on cars . . .
I've never really understood the need for these - are they a token of the owner's supposed wealth, or just something completely empty? I very often see a BMW driving around the area with plates that read D1JDE - looks like 'dude' (geddit?) - although when I see the person behind the wheel, perhaps he should get new plates that read C1JNT . . . or is that a little harsh?
So, today at lunchtime, I'm strolling down Stallard Street, on my way to the TIC to do my usual Monday afternoon voluntary bit, when this vehicle passes by: a two-door saloon (didn't get the make) with the following plate: T4 PUS . . . why in God's name would anyone choose that? I've been chewing this over throughout the day . . . now, the driver was a middle-aged female, possibly named, let's say, Pamela Smith - OK, so that takes care of the 'P' and the 'S': can anyone think of a female Christian name that begins with 'U'? OK, maybe Una!!
The point is this - so your personalised number plate says something about you . . . but a little more thought should have gone into this: after all, why would you choose letters that bring to mind acne . . .?
