What does ‘D’ mean?


“Capital D, love. What does it mean?”

Suddenly, it all fell into place. Mr T our dancing teacher has been learning how to send and receive text messages. No mean feat for a man of his advancing years.  He’s from an era where phones were simply for talking on. The idea of a mobile phone was science fiction when he, and indeed I, were kids. How times change, eh?

Every now and then he’ll send me a message enquiring about if I’m watching  some sport fixture  knowing that I have zero interest in sport and enticing me to send  a sarky comment back. Something along the lines of; I would have watched it but I had to watch some paint dry.

He loves that. He’s easily amused, Mr T.

He sent me a joke the other week. Do you want to hear it?  Ok then.

A lady post an ad in the local paper…..looking for a man who won’t beat me or run away but is great in bed. The next day the doorbell rings. “Hi. I’m Fred. I’ve no arms so I’ll never hit you. I’ve no legs so I’ll never run away.”  The lady asks him what made him think he was  good in bed. His reply was,” How do you think I rang the bloody doorbell?”


That was quite a good joke for Mr T. Some of them belie belief. Anyway, I sent a text back with a big smiley face to show my approval  😀

Within a couple of minutes, a couple of minutes in which I could just imagine him scratching his balls and wondering what the hell I’d sent him, I got a text back.

What does d mean, love?

I tried to explain but he just didn’t get it, so when we went to our next lesson I had to write it down  for him as he still hadn’t worked it out.  Still he didn’t get it. Then I turned the  page sideways. Then he got it.  I almost saw the lightbulb come on.  Aw, bless him 😀

He’s loads better at dancing than he is at technology and txting.



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