The Wrong Guy Got The Rude Nickname

I used to date a guy from my same course canal at university. We were together for five years, but toward the end of the relationship, whether because he felt he “had it in the bag” and could go mask-off or genuinely got worse in his ideas, he started making off-putting remarks and puerile sexist jokes. I thought it was a phase, so I didn’t ignore it outright, but eventually, I broke up with him over a specific incident.

I attend a graduation party for a coursemate, and he (the coursemate) has invited basically everyone he knows, including a guy nicknamed “Mr. Troglodyte” because of his clumsy mannerisms, his being a pop cultural alien, and his alleged general lack of class. 

At some point during the party, while a few lady friends and I go out for a smoke, Mr. Troglodyte, henceforth called “Dude”, comes to chat us up about our careers. At first, we try to hold our eye-rolls back, but after a while, my friends and I find ourselves actually talking nicely with him.

While we’re talking, my boyfriend walks by and waves theatrically at [Dude].

Boyfriend: “Oh, hey, [Dude]! How’s it going?”

Dude: “Oh, hi, [Boyfriend]. Is the party going all right in there?”

Boyfriend: *Shrugging* “Eh, it’s going smoothly, nothing much. By the way, which of these girls do you like best?”

I wish I were kidding.

Dude: “Uh… I think I like [My Name] the most.”

Boyfriend: *Goes wide-eyed* “No way, bro! That’s my girl! I can get really jealous, y’know that?”

Dude: “Mate, you’d need to be at rock bottom to lose your girlfriend to me of all people.”

My friends and I laugh, though I admit it’s mostly out of awkwardness than anything else.

Boyfriend: “Nah, bro, what’ve other dudes got that you haven’t got?” *Mimes a pinching and slapping motion* “All you need to do to get a girl is to slap their a** good and pinch their t*ts while they aren’t looking. All ya need is confidence!”

I stare, horrified.

Friend: “No, don’t listen to him. That’ll just get you punched!” 

Boyfriend: “Ah, c’mon. Women are pretty much all sluts anyway.”

Dude: “Seriously? You’re going to say that in front of your girlfriend?”

Boyfriend: *Acting nonchalant* “Anyway, wouldn’t you prefer having [Friend] in your bed?”

I excuse myself to go to the bathroom and splash my face several times to calm down, expensive makeup be d***ed. The rest of the party goes well; my soon-to-be ex is still pestering [Dude] or drinking several glasses with the graduating coursemate’s relatives. As soon as the desserts are served and things have quieted down, I decide to confront my boyfriend.

Me: “Okay, now that you are done with drinking, can you please tell me what has gotten into you?”

Boyfriend: *Confused* “What has gotten into me when?”

Me: *Sighing* “When you called me and my friends sluts in front of [Dude]. How could you, [Boyfriend]? How dare you?”

Boyfriend: “Aw, but c’mon, honey! I was just ridding myself of competition. Besides, I don’t think you were enjoying his talk anyway.”

Me: “Just because he isn’t the most interesting person on Earth, or the most suave, doesn’t mean he’s bad at talking. Also, what competition?!”

Boyfriend: “Do you know how hard it is to find a girl these days? I can’t let you slip past me like that, especially not to somebody who looks and acts like a caveman in a fancy suit.”

Speechless and irate, I went and congratulated the graduate, took the customary bomboniera (a traditional party favor), and then looked for somebody able to give me a ride back home, as I had no intention of going back home in my ex-boyfriend’s car.

I broke up officially over a text and have been looking since. No luck so far, and the aftermath was devastating on the face of it, but at least I grew wiser from it.