The modern day dumping ground

“Hi Alison, it’s Tim here.”
“Hey Tim, how are y___”
“Listen, Alison, you’re a really cool girl but this isn’t working out.”
“What? How co___”
“You live too far away from me and we go to different schools and I think you should meet someone else…”
On it went.
I gave up trying to interrupt because I realised it was a recording.
Yes, I was being dumped by a tape recording being played down the phone by my then 14-year-old boyfriend Tim.
I got to thinking about it recently when reading an article about being dropped via text.
At least Tim had to go to a bit of effort.
Not so for 13-year-old Heath, who had a mate ring me and tell me I had smelly breath so, thanks anyway, but he was moving on.
Then there was 17-year-old Tim (yes another one) who simply stopped calling, stopped taking my calls, and then, two weeks later, joined the army and left the state.
I thought that was a bit extreme.
I’m not the innocent here though. I’ve done my share of dumping.
Would you believe, another Tim? I told him a mutual friend had the hots for him and I simply couldn’t keep hurting her.
That was all well and good until he spat it with the mutual friend, she went home crying, and her dad paid my parents a visit.
I should have just told the truth.
But I’m proud to say, I’ve never dumped somebody via text and I’ve never been dumped via text (although that’s probably just my age coming in to play).
I’m lucky to have narrowly missed out on having my relationships played out on social networks (unless you count the occasional Facebook PDA from Learner Dad).
I shudder to think how many times my boys are going to hurt someone – or be hurt – online or via text message.
The last time I was dumped, the boyfriend in question had the courtesy to call – only it was when I was halfway down the highway to Hobart, on the day I was moving from Melbourne to be with him.
Sitting in my car at Campbell Town, little Master Four in the back seat, pouring with rain outside, I was faced with a decision.
Turn around and head back to Melbourne, or continue south and take up a job at Win News.
I chose the latter.
And Learner Dad was the first person I met when I walked into the newsroom.
So sometimes, being dumped isn’t so bad.


2 thoughts on “The modern day dumping ground

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