What do you call your SatNav?
When my husband ignores our SatNav’s command, I warn him that Jane will be annoyed with him (although these days she doesn’t tell him to ‘Turn around when possible’ as often as she once did).
Actually, the voice we now have installed is no longer Jane’s. Her replacement is Serena, who includes mispronounced road names in her declarations, but our SatNavs have been firmly established as Jane since the first one we had.
(I’d rather fancied downloading the John Clees recordings, imagining the Fawlty Towers-style abuse that might replace ‘Turn around when possible’, but in the sample I listened to, John was disappointingly similar to Jane.)
We often give names to our cars too. The much-loved Triumph Herald convertible that accompanied me from my teen years into my twenties was known as ROO – not, I assure you, due to it leaping forward when I misjudged the clutch, but because those were the letters on its registration plate. A more recent car with LC on its numberplate was occasionally referred to as Elsie, but it never caught on in the same way.
And although I occasionally call our motorhome Mo, it’s more often referred to as the spare room.
It isn’t only cars and inanimate objects that are given names.
Back when I was at school, in the era of the Beatles, my best friend used to say she was going to “see George” when off to the loo. (That’s another pseudonym for ‘bathroom’, in case my readers across the water don’t recognise it.) The ‘George’ appellation was taken up by our friends, although I recall other acquaintances, outside school, would go to ‘see Lulu’, which at least made aural sense.