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Damn, in my day, we had a radio and a call number. I used to go to bed with the echo of the damn thing in my ears, although there were always hilarious / exasperated exhortations from the controllers. My number was 46, which happened to be my first race number (shared by a then, not particularly famous Italian gentleman.)
In my day m/c couriers all used to be given jobs via terminals which looked like a big Galaxy. Don't know what they're currently using. Whatever it is you can bet they are incentivised not to pull over when they use it.