So, you're at your local court clerk's office getting your license plate replaced. You see the picture of the special license plates up on the wall and it has your college on it; it's actually a fairly decent plate. Of course, there's a $25 charge for that specialized plate which you're not going to fork over.
The very nice lady who has been helping you fill out the paperwork (who is the local judge's wife) looks up and asks if you want any plate in particular. Showing some school pride, and figuring your school is 3 hours away and the nearest other alumnus is probably almost as far away, you say with a smile, "Not unless you've got a Centre plate." There's no way they'll have one of those laying around.
The Lady turns to a younger clerk, "Maggie, do we have a Centre plate?" Maggie hits the pile of plates next to her with Olympic speed and in 2.3 seconds - before you can quickly utter anything like "Don't worry about it" or "Just kidding" - she comes out of the pile with a Centre plate in hand. The clerks have been helpful, nice, and efficient. What do you do?
I bought the dang plate.