You Know Who You Are
That's right. Those of you out there with personalized license plates. Why in God's name would someone drop an extra $50 to get some goofy, often unreadable message scrawled on their tags? Most of the time I'm in a fairly good mood on my morning/evening commute - I look forward to driving alone, where I can relax and listen to my latest book on CD. But yesterday morning a little red Mustang ruined it for me.
NVIABLE.
Some jackass thought his ride was cool enough (and a reflection on himself/penis size) that other drivers might stop and think, 'Wow, I wish I was that guy. He's just like Fonzie!'
Not me, friends and neighbors. The first impulse was to sideswipe the guy into a concrete embankment. I settled for cutting him off and tapping my brakes.
Too much pent-up anger? I don't think so. If you must have a personalized plate, please limit it to supporting your favorite sports team or something (I always honked in Athens when I saw the guy whose plate said GOCATS). But I don't need that much insight into your life. I don't need to know that your car is EDSTOY or that your favorite Bible verse is JOHN316.
Or, heaven forbid, the worst I've ever seen: That DADPAYD.
Post some of the weird personalized plates you've seen as a comment on this post.
NVIABLE.
Some jackass thought his ride was cool enough (and a reflection on himself/penis size) that other drivers might stop and think, 'Wow, I wish I was that guy. He's just like Fonzie!'
Not me, friends and neighbors. The first impulse was to sideswipe the guy into a concrete embankment. I settled for cutting him off and tapping my brakes.
Too much pent-up anger? I don't think so. If you must have a personalized plate, please limit it to supporting your favorite sports team or something (I always honked in Athens when I saw the guy whose plate said GOCATS). But I don't need that much insight into your life. I don't need to know that your car is EDSTOY or that your favorite Bible verse is JOHN316.
Or, heaven forbid, the worst I've ever seen: That DADPAYD.
Post some of the weird personalized plates you've seen as a comment on this post.
posted by Merlin at 5:48 PM
3 Comments:
aw, my brother loves me enough to stick my story on his post! Or perhaps he's proud of my literary prowess...hm...I think it's the former.
Apparantly, it's a big deal to get personalized plates in Illinois...? One of the girls I shared a hall with once told us that it's all the rage...hers was BLUIDEM ...her name was Emily and she had blue eyes. It took her explaining it to me.
Born's plate on his toyota tacoma is toyzilla.
Bitching about personalize license plates? Wow, welcome to 1993 ... these bad punchlines are worse than cell phones, and almost as bad as Bluetooth.
They were a longtime status symbol.
Now anyone who owns a beater and a roll of duct tape can put a vanity plate in their rear window.
As long as the collective American ego remains swollen, those plates are staying on the ass end of vehicles.
The only bad plate I bother to remember is "Pickle," mounted on the tiny motorcycle plate. My friend Heather and I passed this guy in western Kansas. Two hours later, a stone's throw from the Denver metro are, traffic halts behind a truck in flames, and Pickle buzzes right past us, weaving a path among the idling scores. Then every other genius with two wheels and a motor followed his lead, which led to greater havoc once we all began moving again.
For the record, Pickle's motorcycle wasn't even green... and don't ask me how that image is so crisp after almost eight years. Maybe it's because I was about to drive across the Rockies for the first time.
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