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How To Mansplain To A Mansplainer

| Sweden | Boyfriend/Girlfriend

(My boyfriend loves to explain things and everybody who knows him teasingly calls him the ultimate mansplainer. We are out drinking with my friend, who is a woman, when this happens.)

Boyfriend: *end of long rant* “…and that’s why that’s like that.”

Friend: “Oh, my god.”

Me: “You’re such a mansplainer, darling.”

Boyfriend: “I’m not mansplaining! I’m only explaining so you girls will understand!”

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Not Who You Were Ex-pecting

| USA | Infidelity, Popular

(I get a flirtatious text from my girlfriend addressed to someone else. I text her back pretending to be this other person, and find out she has been cheating on me. Still oblivious that she’s actually texting me, I suggest we meet up at a local bar, where we can laugh over how stupid her boyfriend, me, is. An hour later at the bar…)

Me: “Oh, hey, [Girlfriend]!”

Girlfriend: “[My Name]? What are you doing here?”

Me: “I wanted a drink. What about you? Weren’t you going to that play with your sister tonight?”

Girlfriend: “Yeah, it ended early. Um, I just remembered I forgot my purse at her place. I gotta go back.”

Me: “Aren’t you carrying your purse?”

Girlfriend: “My other purse.”

Me: “You took two purses?”

Girlfriend: “Yeah, I gotta go. See you later, babe!”

Me: “Okay! Tell your other boyfriend I said hi!”

(The look on her face was priceless.)

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Boyfriend Won’t Save You From This Pickle

| Cedar Rapids, IA, USA | Boyfriend/Girlfriend, Popular

(My boyfriend and I are out at a bar after a big football game and have spent the better part of the evening drinking. I have a problem with word recollection without alcohol, but with that in the mix I sometimes fail at any sort of communication.)

Me: “Could I get an order of your fried pretzels?”

Waitress: “Uh, you know, I don’t think we have those but I could check with the kitchen staff to see if they can whip you something up.”

Me: *confused* “Are you sure? They’re on the menu.”

Waitress: “I don’t think so, but I’ll go check and be right back.”

(She leaves and returns.)

Waitress: “I’m sorry, dear, we don’t have any fried pretzels.”

Me: “What? No I want the fried pickles.”

Waitress: *looks at me like I’ve grown a third eye* “Well, those we certainly have. Sorry about the confusion.”

(She leaves.)

Me: *to boyfriend* “Why didn’t you say something?”

Boyfriend: “I mean you seemed so confident! How was I supposed to know you flubbed?”

(This is by far the most hilarious and embarrassing time this has ever happened to me, with or without alcohol.)

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