Episode whatever in A Romantic Comedy About The Patriarchy...
It occurs to me that I am, for the first time in my life, eligible to give blood. In the last three years I have not got tattooed, injected drugs, been to Africa, or slept with any dudes who have either done these things or slept with other dudes. It's quite hilarious that the NHS now deems my fluids acceptable - I have to lie down after a blood test. If I donated a pint of the stuff I'd faint on the spot. (Which would be a good way of scamming free biscuits, but it seems like a lot of effort to go to for a soggy custard cream.)
When I relayed this information to my dear gentleman friend - "WOW, because for the last two and a half years I've only been sleeping with your suspiciously clean-living self, I am welcomed back into polite organ-donating society!" - he asked, "And who were you sleeping with for the first year we were together?"
Turns out I am not 24, and we've been together for three and a half years. You live and learn.
We find this story hilarious. So I've been telling it a lot. And every single person who's been regaled by it - with the exception of my GBF and soon-to-be-Mrs-GBF, who I will henceforth be referring to as The Engayged - has said, "Huh. Usually it's the man who forgets anniversaries."
Yeah, take that, The Patriarchy.
(Not long after we first got together we had a long-running argument about whether the noun 'patriarchy' could be used with the definite article. I maintained that I knew a lot more about the theory of male oppression of women than he did. He said "grammar grammar grammar blah grammar". I said he was mansplaining. He asked what the mansplaining was. ROMANCE!)