My mind sometimes tends to work overtime.  I look at people in the street and invent names for them, and I've been wondering if I'm alone in this pastime.

For instance, when I first left school there was a bloke called Pard who used to catch the 140 bus to Kenton station the same as myself.  He never knew his name was Pard. And come to think of it, if your name was Pard you wouldn't want to know either, would you?  In fact, you'd probably be a bit pissed off about it, I suppose.  Oh well, fuck him.

Anyway, I used to judge whether I was on time for work by the time Pard arrived at the bus stop.  And it never occured to me that Pard himself could be late.

Just think, almost 30 years later, Pard has no idea that he's being written about on the Internet.

A mate of mine, Doug, gets the same train as Sanchez every morning.  Same story.  Sanchez has no idea he's called Sanchez (although I suppose it's preferable to being called Pard).  But my mate and his wife judge if they're on time for the train by whether Sanchez is in the parking lot.

However, things have now taken a turn for the worse.  I find myself making up names for all the mums at my little boy's school.  I'll tell you about them.

First of all there's The Erf.  And she really is an Erf.  She was at the same pre-natal classes as my wife, and even Sue had made up a name for her.  She used to call her The She-Monster.  Yet the strange thing is that her husband's quite normal.  He doesn't seem to have noticed.  I can't imagine what his mates must think when he first introduces them to her!

Then there's the Everything-Too-Short-Mum.  She's a bit stupid, but I can make allowances for that, but why are ALL her clothes too short? All of them - trousers, jackets, jumpers, even her hair. So she's the Everything-Too-Short-Mum.

Then there's the Fat-Ugly-Foul-Mouthed-Mum, which speaks for itself really, doesn't it?  She's fat and ugly and foul mouthed.  I've a feeling we're bound to clash at some point in the future.

I could go on.  There's the Farmer's Wife, although she's actually quite nice.  But the funny thing is that some of these mums are actually named after their kids.  How on earth did that happen?  There's the Angry Kid's mum, the Semi-Angry Kid's mum and the Little Dot's mum.

The thing that's worrying me now is what do they call me?

I've been threatening Sue that I'll make up a poem about them all and send it off to the Watford Observer.  She's scared stiff in case I actually do it. And the thing is I wouldn't put it past me.

Anyway, does anyone else out there make up names for strangers?  Or is it just me?

Karl, let me talk to Sue for a moment, thanks,.......

Sue, do you sometimes worry about your old man?  We all do!  Why don't you tell us what you think of the lovely fella!..........

OK, Karl, it's all yours again.

Is that you, Pard?

Karl I know just what you mean.  I park each work day in a multi storey car park.  I park on a particular floor and ever since some B***ted reversed down the side of my car and drove off I park in a particular bay which means no-one can park next to me. I have been doing this for the last 4 years with no problems.  All the work users have an unwritten rule about who parks where and it all works well.  However during the past 2 months some new guy who I call Mr Flash B***ted has taken to using my space even if the whole floor is empty.

I think he's trying to make a point (not that I'm quite sure what it is), we both drive the same make car except his is bright red with extra flashy wheels , headlights, upholstery and nodding dog in the back. I think he is trying to say mine is better than yours so if I get here first I'll take the space.  I now leave home every day 5 minutes earlier just to make sure I get there first.  The other day it was almost like a race into the carpark, I had just parked and he came screeching in to find me already there. I just got out and gave him a " there you are you piece of S**t" look.  Its now become a piece of entertainment for the other car users to see if he pinches my space.

‘Mr. Flash Bastard's’ a good name, Pennie, and he truly does sound like a pain.

When I originated this thread it was late at night, and I missed out a few of the mums.  There's Top-Totty Mum, Legs and The Three Bat-Witches of Rickmansworth Mums.  All three of them wear black leather coats and are decidedly freaky.  Legs and Top-Totty Mum are self-explanatory.