I have an interesting commute into work. It’s not exactly terrible as, apart from once I get into the paradise that is also known as Peterborough, there’s little in the way of standing traffic. Most of the time, I do end up in slow moving lines of cars plodding up some of the country’s finer A-roads, at somewhere between 37 and 43mph. It’s not so bad I guess, as I used to drive into the City of London every day (and anything compared with that is going to be a piece of cake), but boredom is the main problem…
To alleviate this, I make up all sorts of car-bound games. In the old days it used to be trying to make legible words from the scrawl on the bootlids of the cars in front (i.e., Astra GL became ‘astraggle’), or seeing how many other drivers behind me would also flick their washers if I sprayed my screen in a standing queue.
Nowadays, the roads are full of debadged cars, and we don’t get much sun, so I’ve reduced myself to trying to spell out the words that people are trying to convey with their personalised number plates. Some kind of make sense – such as the car above, which is obviously the world’s only single-exhaust E60 BMW M5 in existance (owned by a chap called Stuart), but I’ll be blowed if I know what the one below is (an ex-Somalian perhaps?).
Try it sometime – when you see an obviously personalised number plate, try and read out what it is trying to say… It’s fun for a few minutes, until you start to realise that these people have paid for the privilege of displaying such nonsense on their cars…
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