Archive for the ‘News From PGs Numbers’ category

Have a good one !

December 31st, 2013

Don’t look back – that’s my advice.

This is particularly true when you’re driving but also when thinking about the year that’s just about to dip from the horizon of the rear view mirror.

Take my own recent experiences on the sales front, for example. I’m only now recovering from the humiliation of inadvertently selling aids to marital bliss (Viagra) on this very blog. You can’t believe the teasing I got at the Central Registrations Christmas party but I held my head high – oops, perhaps that should be chin. It’s so easy to be misunderstood once one is a top-shelf writer. Even strangers have nudged me in the ribs, asked how supplies are going and suggested that I might like to boost sales by offering free samples with every number plate.

In view of all this I have been giving some serious thought to the joy that can be had from a simple number plate. Not only that but a lot of serious and embarrassing health problems can be alleviated from an investment in a cherished number. So, here is my list, compiled from customer feedback, of positive benefits that can be had from motoring enhancement ie: buying a number.

Heart conditions improved – this is attributable to the relief afforded motorists who don’t want anyone to know the age of their car. Numbers are timeless creatures and subtly relieve the angst caused from annual depreciation of a vehicle.

Asthma attacks reduced – once you have a glorious number on your car the need to drive in heavy, stressful traffic is reduced. Simply park your car in a prominent place and enjoy the admiring glances without risking polluted air which can trigger breathing difficulties.

Skin looks ten years younger – one faithful customer told me that her number was better than a face lift, so I think that’s what she meant. Put it this way, a number plate won’t leave you with that startled look caused by being stretched, tucked and nipped.

I had the office to myself and thought to give you more good news but now some sad individual is challenging my claims, asking whether I can prove any of the above. Well, not scientifically. I sell an interesting part for a car’s body and leave the human stuff to doctors. And so now, I am obliged to give you a health warning – one that I know you are not in need of.

Number plates. Don’t swallow them whole. Don’t drive them while under the influence of alcohol and don’t operate heavy machinery while in the middle of buying one. Keep them on your car and don’t leave them in unattended luggage. Oh, yes…and have a cracking New Year.
Cheers,
Reg
(Purveyor of motoring pleasure)

Help – I’ve been hacked off…or is it up?

November 22nd, 2013

HACKED ! You see, I thought it meant one was a little fed up or out of sorts. When people told me – “Reg, you’ve been hacked!” it didn’t occur to me to look any further than my rather fragile head.

Between you and me, my fragility is legendary and has nothing to do with the build up to Christmas…or indeed the compulsory heavy drinking that accompanies the festive season.

Fortunately, a kind friend and reader sat me down metaphorically speaking and gave me a harsh talking to.

“We know you’re not fed up, Reg, me old mucker, but some unscrupulous person is using your fine column to sell some very mucky products.”

‘Not those cheap plates!” I cried, seeing fifty shades of grey or was it red, appear before my eyes. “The ones that fall off before the poor customer has got over the first speed bump. Trying to sell that crap on my blog.”

I was outraged. Upset. A mite fragile. I slumped into my rather battered office chair that had seen better days. Dear Reader, I confess, I switched on the answer machine knowing I couldn’t answer the phone. Not that day. Another emotion played with me until I felt like a wrung out piece of laundry. I was angry.

“Not number plates, Reg,” my friend sighed. “A rather different industry has been using you, I’m afraid. One where cherished has an entirely different meaning. Mention your trusted screw driver on one of their web sites and see what happens to you and your number plates.”

I hadn’t cottoned on, sadly. My friend found this immensely funny and couldn’t explain for laughing. Finally, I caught one word amid the tears and derision. It seems that I had been hacked by people selling under-the-counter aids to marital harmony. It’s even possible that I have unwittingly been selling the stuff for quite some time. Viagra.

My fury diminished slowly, I took a deep breath that in time became a sigh of satisfaction.

“I’ve only ever wanted one thing,” I explained. “To make people happy. Not everyone can achieve what you and I can manage on a simple number plate.”

“Reg, you’re a poet,” he said.

More a philosopher, I think. It occurs to me that there haven’t been any complaints about my little blog for a while, you know. Everything happens for a reason.

Yours, with a smile,
Reg Chatt

If the name fits…!

July 10th, 2012

Isn’t it funny that some people really suit their number plates?
Take my own for example. These days my lovely car is wearing J1 OKE. It’s appropriate since I’m known as the master of the one liner and sadly, for all you other jokers, it’s now off the market.

Anyone caught trying to buy that fella off any of the staff here will have me to answer to.

Which brings me to an interesting piece of news. Did you know that the government is withholding a very interesting number plate? so I’ve been told. WA11 KER – apparently. A little bolt strategically placed between the 11 and there you have the letter N staring at you. I blush at the thought of the cabinet discussion! How heated it must have been. Who was to get the thing on their car first? Who does it suit the most?

You know I’ve worked on many occasions for the department. I help where I can with bits of advice, trips to the Middle East, you know. But I wouldn’t advise any of them to stick that one in the wrong place.

Pip, pip,
Answers on a post card please,
Reg Chatt

BBC Radio Fame – but not for me

January 13th, 2012

I nearly crashed…I was listening to BBC Radio Sussex on the way to the office when I heard the boss talking about personalised number plates.

They were asking his opinion about this and that, getting him to do valuations on the spot and now he’s full of himself. I tell you, it’s gone to his head. It’s all he can talk about. My radio voice, he calls it. I could have done so much better than him; why didn’t they ask Reg Chatt if they wanted an honest opinion on the market.

For example, they asked him why men like number plates so much. I could have given them ten minutes on that one given half the chance. You see, one in ten guys, according to the AA’s latest research, has a private number on their car. Of course, they have. A man’s car is his castle; it’s his everything. What man polishes his house, like he does his car? So, of course he wants his wheels to be properly dressed.

OK, so the boss is pretty good at on the spot valuations, I’ll give him that, since he does it all day long. He just doesn’t have my charisma; he hasn’t a tenth of my charm and fortunately never reads my little column here on the blog. We had to listen to what his favourite number plate was, too. I mean, who cares? It’s UN 3, apparently. I’m one of the few people who know why, you know. Years ago, he was driving his old Rover Vitesse in northern Spain with that plate on it. The atmosphere over there was tricky, to say the least, due to some bomb attacks by Basque separatists and he’d illegally parked outside a bank.

An armed motorcycle policeman spotted the car, saluted and led him to a VIP parking spot. Turns out the boss was mistaken for a UN diplomat or something like that. Typical.

Don’t ask him about it, for god’s sake. We’ve got enough to cope with !

Pip, pip

Reg Chatt

New in

October 19th, 2011

I’m back at my desk after a fabulous day watching our favourite racing driver Tom Sharp head for victory at the British Touring Car Championships at Silverstone. It was his ninth win this season but not enough sadly to give him the Michelin Ginetta GT supercup championship. Impressive performance too after his Brands Hatch accident when he miraculously walked from the damaged vehicle in one piece.

Championship victory next time , Tom!

Now I’m back on the number plate hotline rather wishing registration numbers made as much noise and speed as those impressive race cars. Of course I’m biased but numbers are exciting in their own way.  Take one of our latest stock numbers -  HOG IX.  You can picture it on a Harley, can’t you? Might grab that one myself. Or, there’s the super sonic    SON14C – excellent for SONIA.

Horses can be pretty nippy too. Here’s one for the horse box   -    1111 GG. Or NAG 888A.  You can’t make the old lorry look younger but, give it a personalised number, and you will give it a new lease of life.

Also new in: -

9 GSH     ROS33N – good for Roseen     7 RSH      SAL 7E        SEK 8     All fantastic private registration numbers – ready to fly onto your car.

Yours,

Reg Chatt

It’s a Speeding Shame

March 25th, 2011

No one thought it was possible but I am living proof that you can break the speed limit on a NSU moped.

It wasn’t  a lot of fun and I have a couple of wing nuts stuck in an awkward crevice for my trouble but the thing rattled me along the open road at 32 mph and my rash action set the papparazi popping.

OK, so I was quite a sight but I didn’t think all that flash photography was needed. I was rather blinded for a moment as the road was dark ( you didn’t think I’d drive a thing like that in the daylight, did you?) and almost parted company with the machine.

Well, I had thought it was those press guys as I’ve become a bit of a celeb since penning this august column about cherished numbers. Turns out it was a blasted speed camera. No publicity then – just a kind offer of a speed awareness course at my nearest town hall.

You won’t believe this course. Tremendous fun and very fine biscuits but there wasn’t one participant who reached speeds of over 40mph. Well, actually there was one jumped up fellow but I refused to talk to him since he looked so bloody smug. The course tutors – two of them with not a decent registration number between them – let us know that the real speed merchants don’t get offered places on speed awareness courses. There were quite a few elderly ladies participating so I forbore to ask what they do to the flashy fast buggers. I suspected it had something to do with four walls, a locked door and a shared toilet but details were thin out of respect. I don’t often resort to using facts here but the very nice disabled driver I got chatting to looked as though his heart was racing at the mention of penalty points so we were hardly going to mention prison.

It’s a tough world out there and I got the message pretty clear. A life of crime isn’t going to suit me and as for that strange noise every time I sit down. Does anyone know how to remove a set of wing nuts from…?

Yours,

Reg

(Reg will be back to work after the op ! Ed)

Our man in the Middle East

March 9th, 2011

Oh boy. Trade delegations – who’d go on them ? I’ve vowed not to do another no matter who asks me.

At least I’m back in one piece although getting out and about in those regions was harder than you would believe.  At one point it was rumoured that the Foreign Secretary, Sir William McVague, asked anyone stranded to give the Foreign Office a quick ring. I could have given them a quick tinkle but that would have been it. Still, they sent a plane eventually and we made it home although one chap had to run on the tarmac waving  what looked like a white flag but turned out to be a sheaf of papers. Orders, so he said. Bloody show off !

The embarassing thing was what the rest of the delegation were selling. I mean they don’t need sand in this part of the world and no one in their right mind would get on a flight with our own PM and try to sell them a pile of it. So why did anyone think any of these countries needed any you know… hard stuff…guns?

I hadn’t realised the company I was keeping until I looked into the brief case of one of my party. Didn’t like to ask if it was loaded either, he appeared not the sort to mess with, if you get my meaning.

So there I was mingling with the arms dealers, supping the odd glass of warm Champagne and touting my little number plates.

Did I mention we have A1 RAB for sale? It was probably why I was chosen to go. Still have it funnily enough. Listen, this was the Middle East and they know what they like. There was an inordinate amount of interest in my friend’s brief case probably due to the amount of popping and banging we could hear in the background. I didn’t believe it was fireworks, no matter what they said. They probably used up the bullets from the last sales drive in the space of a week but I have plenty of number plates in the cupboard for a rainy day.

One member of our party had the cheek to say to me that you can’t eat a number plate, can you? I wouldn’t want a bullet chucked in the back of my throat either so I don’t know why he thought to pursue a conversation about functionality.

Which, as always, brings me to the crux of my message. Number plates. They’re small, you can fit plenty in an overnight bag and not get stopped by customs on the journey home. They hurt no one and might even make you smile. Try B10 BLO for size – it always cracks me up.

Of course, it was poetic justice as I came through the nothing to declare exit through customs only to see my rather annoying fellow delegate suffering a highly detailed scrutiny of his luggage. Perhaps he hadn’t sold as many of the wretched things as he led us to believe. Seems he was bringing them home again and trying to get them into London.  Ah, it’s good to be home.

Reg Chatt (by appointment to you know who)

Goodwood Revival

October 1st, 2010

I have a really good suit – well I have many ofcourse, but this one I bought in the 1960s. If you remember the 60s you should be organising your funeral, so they say. Rather unfair, to my mind.  Am I rambling? This suit. It comes out for the Goodwood Revival and this year was no exception.  A bit tight round the middle but what’s a little tightness between friends.

We drove down in style in my E-type Jaguar. Champagne was stashed in the back…canapes were shaken but not stirred and we took part in a great show. Brilliant as ever this year. I took the opportunity to do a little business since I am unable to stop myself.  Some people say that I’m simply adding to the hot air on the planet but some people are miserable bastards guilty for generations of inflicting doom and gloom on the rest of us.

So, there I was, chatting (well I’ve got the name so I might as well use it) to some gorgeous ladies with excellent taste in ferous oxide. Just wondering whether the proud owners wanted to buy or sell. I’ve been rather busy since Goodwood following up on these inquiries,  hence my long absense from the office. You see, without these hard selling tactics, marvellous little niche companies like Central Registrations would probably become like all the rest. Homogenised. Instead, I feel we are rather unique. The staff, like myself, go for bloody good days out, feel a little tight and run up some ex’s. What’s wrong with that?

Plenty of excitement back at the office on my return – the old boss is bidding on a 1904 number with single letter and single number. Very rare and desirable and could look excellent on my next outing. If only I could get my filthy hands on it.

Anyway, must dash..

Reg Chatt

Not at my desk !

April 28th, 2010

It happens – I can’t always be at my desk.

In this case my absense was rather longer than anticipated due to some ghastly cloud mushrooming out of Iceland. I thought they’d given up that game but the dark evenings of winter have their toll, I suppose.

For all those of you who missed me, don’t think I’ve been swanning around the tropics on some holiday extravaganza. I haven’t.

I’ve been travelling for a very serious purpose as you’ll see. It has come to my attention that there is a source of rather cheap registration numbers somewhere in the world. The high street shops have a similar difficulty with cheap imports from the Far East – cheap toys, cheap clothes, which disintegrate on impact. So why should I be surprised if someone is pumping out shoddy numbers at bargain prices.

So, no surprise then but, naturally, as a purveyor of antique registrations I’m concerned that whoever is flooding my market is paying decent wages. Some of these things are so cheap you can’t help wondering if some poor kid in a back slum is churning them out instead of glueing his eyes to a computer screen like the lucky kids of the developed nations. 

There seems to be no end to these so-called plates. Two weeks in the Caribbean and I am none the wiser as to the source. Still, I have my scouts and expect to get information on this sordid trade very shortly.

It’s just been brought to my attention by the health and safety officer that my comments could be construed as a pop at registrations from Northern Ireland. Apparently my longevity and marital prospects would be endangered by such rash words. Let me just say that some of my best friends have NI plates; I have some for sale myself and very proud of them I am too.

Call me a purist but it’s all these Fs and Ps cluttering up my registration that I can’t stand.

‘Will you shut up Reg. We sell those too.’

‘Do we?’

‘Yep, cheap as chips. Check out the website.’

‘Right.’

By the way, thought it would be a good moment to reveal my bonus this year. I hope you take it in the spirit of openess and generosity with which it was given to me.

                                          £00.00

Yours,

Reg Chatt

Fed Up !

April 7th, 2010

Anyone else feeling a tiny bit of irritation towards the banks? Or is it just me?

If I was as good at screwing on number plates as they are at screwing me I would make a fortune.

All I wanted was my current account to be able to talk to my savings account. In other words when the former was low it could pull from the latter and prevent a nasty over drawn situation.  Apparently, that’s not possible without my personal intervention. You know the rest. Letters from the bank at £25 a shot, statements in red and interest charged. Nice one.

Still, mustn’t witter on about it. Went to a great party the other week in my old stomping ground. Of course, when you meet people you don’t know, conversation inevitably turns to how you earn your crust. I’ve been called many things in my time but one of the things I call myself is Autonumerologist. Try it after a few bevvies. So, I

introduced myself as such and was flattered that people knew my name.

Do you know, people love to chat about numbers? Here are some of my favourite number questions : -

Q) What’s the priciest number you’ve ever sold?

A) I never divulge that one but I have been offered quite a few camels for  A1 RAB.

Q) Any rude numbers in stock?

A) Certainly not. However, the price of B16 DYC has dropped markedly.

Q) Do you have any famous customers?

A) More than I can cope with. Snowy the dog is still my favourite. Not heard of him ? Where have you been?

Q) What do you have on your own car, Reg?

A) Today, my dear public, I am sporting 3 NMB. I don’t have my own number; they’re all for sale and don’t usually stay long enough for me to get attached to them. This was was bought by Centralreg because…well, why not?

Q) Can I transfer a number from my old tractor that’s been languishing in the barn since the last queen died?

A) Now – take that straw bale out of your ears – Noooo, you can’t and if I’m asked that one more time…I’ll…

These question and answer sessions, always make me grateful that I’m not a doctor.

Anyway…good party, great dancing…really, I did, and not much of a hangover.

Yours,

Reg Chatt