The other night, I made my man watch Dirty Dancing. The movie that I’ve seen easily more than a hundred times. But while I was watching my man watch my favorite movie, I was suddenly more sensitive to all the mistakes in the film. “Come on, guys, you’re losing him! LIFT!” I yelled inside my head, while noticing plot hole after plot hole after plot hole, until I wasn’t even sure if I liked the movie any more.
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