Some people take a lot longer than others to get over the breakup of a relationship. When I broke up with my last girlfriend, naturally I was upset. Friends and family were also a bit saddened, but naturally, we moved on, as you do. However, there are some people who have seemingly been unable to get over us breaking up, even though it’s been over sixtteen months now. I’m talking about the people at City Taxis in Sheffield.
Every time I call the taxi company, I get an automated voice presenting me with a list of three possible addresses that I might want to be picked up from. This is meant to be based on my recent pick-up points, except I haven’t been picked up from my ex’s house, since we broke up. That would have been at the start of February 2015. Yet, despite the amount of time that has elapsed, and in spite of the fact that I’ve been picked up by that taxi company from a load of different addresses, that weren’t my ex’s, the machine still offers her address first on the list.
But today, I called City Taxis, and her address was gone from the list. It’s taken them sixteen months, but City Taxis has finally accepted that we are no longer in a relationship. Well done City Taxis, I am proud of you. Be strong.
When we broke up, we had no idea how it would affect the taxi company. Once it became clear how badly they were taking it, we did have some tentative talks about trying to stay together, just for the sake of City Taxis, but we knew it would never really work. It was better that we went our separate ways now, than cause more prolonged pain for City Taxis in the future, as we would have got their hopes up, only to dash them again at a later date.
I’m sure that there were some people in the office, the more pragmatic and less sentamental ones, who were suggesting that they should remove her address from the top of my recently visited list on the automated telephone system, but then presumably there must have been others who would say, “no, no, just give it a bit longer.” But the weeks turned to months, and the address was still top of the list, yet still remained unused. December came, and the suggestion was made to delete the address, but the staff decided that they should wait until the new year. Maybe there would be a Christmas reconciliation. But Christmas and the new year came and went, and yet there was still no journey booked from or to my ex’s address. Yet, the staff at City Taxis still kept the address at the top of the list, in feeble hope, deciding to wait until the spring before they did anything about it. After all, winter is depressing enough, they reasoned, and the hope of a reunion was at least a small comfort to hang on to. But the winter came and went …
Tomorrow we’re having a meeting with someone who works at Stockton prison, interested in getting us in to do a gig. Hopefully we can recreate the effusive atmosphere of Johnny Cash’s epic prison gig. Maybe we should do a modify version of When I Heard That Lonesome Whistle, perhaps giving it a more local bent, and see how much of a cheer we get when we sing, “I stabbed a man in Belingham, just to watch him die. Well I mean, in fairness, there’s very little else to do in Billingham, so we have to make our own entertainment. Granted, there’s the skating rink, but there’s only so much skating a man can do before he gets bored and ends up killing someone just for something to do.” I might have to jiggle the words around a bit in order to make it scan, but I think that’ll go down very well with the Teesside prisoners.
I just hope the paedophiles of the prison aren’t too disappointed when they realise that The much anticipated Young’uns night isn’t quite what they’d hoped for. Hopefully there’ll be a few folk fans among the paedophiles to at least offer some small consolation. Hey, come on, it’s my 160th Dollop, surely I’ve earned the right to do a teensy-weensy paedophile joke?
I shall leave today’s Dollop here, as over the last four days I’ve produced over an hour’s worth of Dolloping, and while I know there are many of you who centre your lives around me and my Dollops, I appreciate that you’re spending quite a lot of time listening to me blabbering on everyday. I am however bewildered at the number of you who’ve listened to the lastfew Dollops. Although, I can’t help thinking that, from a PR and marketing perspective, I’ve maybe not taken advantage of the opportunity of keeping the hundreds of new people I gained last week as a result of Springwatch. I could have produced a few, short blogs, to ease people in, but instead I released 20 minute long audio Dollops consisting of me walking to the shops and washing the dishes. And now I’ve probably just killed the last few newbe stragglers off with a paedophile joke. Oh well, to be honest, the fame wasn’t really for me anyway. It’ll be nice to be able to walk down the street again, without having children trying to crowd-surf me down the road. A hilarious reference to Dollop 157 there. There’ll be a hundred or so of you who’ll have got that; the rest of you will have to listen if you want to know what I’m talking about. Or you could just bugger off, like all those other fickle idiots, who were only interested in visiting my website because they’d seen me on Springwatch and just wanted to know whether or not I was blind. Just remember this, you won’t be laughing when you’re farmed for meat on the David’s Daily Digital Dollop commune. And that’s a hilarious reference to Dollop 159. If you want to get the most from these Dollops then you’ve really got to do the leg work, and listen to or read them all. But be warned, if you should start putting in the leg work, and then decide to stop listening to or reading these Dollops, you will nevertheless at the time of reckoning be judged as an outsider, and thus the Dollop commune will farm you for your meat, which thanks to all that leg work you put in before, will be all the more plentiful. You have been warned.