Sometimes I think I’m a little silly:
The number “216.”
This number has mystical powers and it follows me everywhere.
It all started when I was in 216 squadron in the RAF doing airborne refuelling. After that, 216 was here to stay. Often, when I look at the trip meter on any car or bike, I am at mile 216.
In Malaysia, I was offered an appartment on the second floor, house number 16.
I often look at my watch and the time is 2:16 (or 14:16). My collegue in the police force - his collar number was 216. The extension number for one of the desks in the office was 0216.
Outside my apartment in Taiwan is a fire extinguiser with the test date written in pen: 2/16/93.
Down starirs outside there are two scooters with the last three digits as 216 and a car featuring my old police collar number, 1546.
The code number on the bottom of the mouse I am using right now is S/N 0 050845216.
I recently finished collecting 216 volumes of a magazine of which I didn’t realise there were 216 volumes. I have an “APOTHCAREY BATH OIL” box (whatever that is) on a shelf and someone in a far off warehouse has deemed it necessary to scrawl 216 over it, for no particular reason.
My old PIN for my credit card was 2106. As “0” is not really a number, then it really says “21 6.”
So to cut an unnecessarily long and stupid story short, every time I see this number on anything, like a licence plate or an address; or anything really, I become a little wary and tread a little more carefully for the immediate future. This is my number and it’s out there to warn me.