Fortunately, that feckless fashion of lovey-dovey couples displaying their names at the top of car windscreens has gone by the wayside.
The reason I mention it is that yesterday I was parked facing one such old banger. I refer to the car and not the female at the wheel whom I assumed was called “Sharon”. At least, that's what I read on the label above her frightening fizzog. I’d no idea where “Fred” was. Maybe he had blazed a trail for the car and had already been dumped.
It got me to thinking how appropriate it would be if their names had been “Jill” and “Ted”.
I smiled at the thought.
Sharon smiled back.
I’m not smiling now.