Poo 4 Sue

So, what is this number plate all about?
I obviously spend some time looking at car number plates but this has to be one of the oddest I’ve ever seen.
With all the combinations of letters possible you do sometimes get an odd plate that can make me smile in a childish way, something like ‘PK 51 NOB’ or ‘T 739 POO’, but this actually looks like a personal registration. In fact, I’m almost sure that is a personal number plate that somebody chose, rather than one dished out by the DVLA as it isn’t in one of the two normal formats seen in my examples above (new format first, old loveable format second).
So, why would somebody choose that?
Why?
I’m assuming that the car is owned (or used to be owned) by someone called Sue. Therefore, why the fuck has Sue decided to advertise that she is 4 (for) poo?
Maybe Sue is a doctor passionate about our need to eat a fibrous diet so we don’t become constipated. Or alternatively she’s a junior nurse in a hospital, often tasked with the unpleasant job of easing a patient’s constipation by poking her digits up their anus to gently break the poo free (imagine the cracking of a crème brûlée if you find it hard to imagine this job). But, why would Sue want to advertise that this is how she makes a living. Even with gloves you’d still be able to smell it on your fingers, why would you be proud of a job that would prevent you from ever eating a sandwich again. Anyway, there are better ways to ask the Great British public to look after their bowels than through a number plate that could be misconstrued for some other meaning.
It could mean something more sinister.
Maybe Sue really likes poo. Really, really likes poo.
Sue could be a star of 2 Girls 1 Cup and therefore, like Jimmy Tarbuck and his ‘COM 1 C’ registration, she has chosen to indicate her profession via her number plate. ‘1 EAT POO’ had probably already been taken by her co-star.
Or Sue may like nothing better than collecting the poo of strangers and storing it in plastic bags. Maybe she categorises it into various shapes and sizes. I don’t know, I wouldn’t like to think of how she arranges her collection.
For all we know, Sue may like nothing better than having a tasty meal but that she swaps the traditional elements of a British dinner for types of poo. Instead of sausages she could use a regular firm stool, she could substitute the mash for a post beer damp poo, and then finish it off with diarrhoea gravy. I don’t know who could even come up with such a disgusting idea, let alone go to the trouble of imagining someone cutting into a poo sausage, dipping it in diarrhoea gravy and then chomping down on it, the juices squirting through their teeth. How could anyone even think of that?
How could anyone do that, think “hmm, this is such a nice treat that I’d really like to advertise to fellow motorists that I like nothing more than eating the faecal matter of strangers”. Suddenly Sue goes from being a caring doctor trying to make us eat more bran to some sort of shit eating monster.
Actually, maybe Sue isn’t a person after all. Maybe the owner of the car is a lawyer who specialises in claims made for injuries caused by going to the toilet, or by coming into contact with some poo. You may have caught dysentery after eating oysters at a restaurant, suffered terrible wounds from razor sharp toilet paper, or slipped on a mislaid turd whilst walking through your office (okay, that one is unlikely).
I think that if anyone ever comes across the owner of the above car that they should stop her and ask her some questions. The first should be ‘What is your name?’ If she says her name is Sue and she isn’t wearing a white doctor’s gown then run away. And never, ever let her cook you dinner.