The Star-Bellied Sneetches have bellies with Stars, but the Plain-Bellied Sneetches have none upon thars. - Dr. Seuss

My wife and I ate at Henry B's in Seneca Falls for the first time last weekend, and we were shown to their special private table in the back of the restaurant - the best spot in the house.

I thought we may have been seated at that table because I was told to always give an Italian last name when making restaurant reservations around here, but I understand now the real reason was the couple we were dining with.

They were part of Cayuga County's moto-elite CY Club.

The CY Club is an exclusive group of motorists in the county - doctors, lawyers, city and county officials - who have been given discretionary license plates by the county clerk's office numbered CY 1 to CY 999. No one pays extra for these plates, so they aren't specialty plates as much as they are Special-Me plates, and the CY may seem likes it's short for "C Y I AM BETTER THAN YOU" to all of us Plain-Bellied Sneetches.

It's like being picked last for dodgeball all over again.

And CY plates are more than just status.

Police do not stop CY cars for violations, and if they accidentally do pull one over, the officer must provide the Special-Me driver with an apology and an escort to the grocery store, the gas station or wherever they were headed.

CY cars are allowed to block the Auburn Police Department driveway on North Street.

CY cars pay 20 percent less for unleaded.

Crows avoid CY cars.

CY drivers can use EZ-Pass lanes, even if they don't have an EZ-Pass.

CY drivers don't need to pull over for ambulances or fire engines.

CY is short for Cut Youoff, which is what they are permitted to do, in case they just accidentally passed the Byrne Dairy, or if they see a garage sale at the last moment (would a CY driver be at a garage sale?)

CY drivers don't get ticketed or towed.

And there is a hierarchy within the CY community that must be respected as well.

If a CY 87 and a CY 64 both find the same front-row parking spot in front of Lowe's at Christmastime, the space goes to the lower number. That goes for the last self-serve pump open at Hess Oil, and the last gallon of milk at the Byrne Dairy.

Like me, if you didn't know these plates existed, then they weren't serving their purpose effectively. But now that you know, you won't be as upset with one of these Special-Me drivers when they fail to use their right-turn indicator. Momma always told you, wear clean underwear in case you get in an accident, and never scream out the car window at a judge or a district attorney.

However, for the rest of us with peasant plates, there is still hope.

My plate is CYL 3461, which I now know is short for "CY Loser 3461," but my standing in life can be changed with just a few brush strokes of white finger nail polish.

Bam. I am now CY 461. I am one of the chosen Star-Bellied and have finally arrived, even though I've lived here for a year and a half.

Beaming with my newfound acrylic-enabled specialdom, I called back this weekend to verify my Monday night reservations for LeFortini at Henry B's, figuring I was bound to get their special table in the back on my own merits this time.

But they apologized and told me they were forced to give away my reservation.

CY 460 had just called.

Editor Mikel LeFort can be reached at 253-5311 ext. 230, or e-mail mikel.lefort@lee.net