Thusly, right at the entrance to International Arrivals:
Click to expand
I should add that it would help if you had a Rolls Royce, and if your license plate had no letters* on it, and if you had a chauffeur to keep an eye on the car…
Oh, to hail from Mother Russia!
*See? ‘Cause it’s “special.”
**Someday, I’ll be special. (I’m a driver, I’m a winner. Things are gonna change, I can feel it.) In the meantime I’ll just have to circle around powered by my straight-outta-Toyota-City 2UZ-FE V-8 with hypereutectic pistons, you know, an engine from this century. The one what will surely outlive whichever visiting comrade happened to be coming in from Moscow on this particular day…