Last Saturday, as it happens. Was in Tiger Tiger (for the first and last time ever, awful place) for the CL final with my bessie (a fellow Scouser) and bunch of other mates who happen to be Spurs fans, but despise the Mancs and love Barca as well.
So anyway, it being London and all, the place was about 80% Mancs. I was stood there with my mates in a Barca scarf, listening to them give it the old "ROOOOOOONEHHH, ROOOOOOOOONEHHH" etc. Then Barca scored their first, and the little corner that me and my mates were in went mental. We celebrated as if one of our own had scored it, because, well, y'know. Cue a couple of dirty looks, but nothing serious. Behind me, a Cockney Manc could be heard to say "Fuck this, I'm off home". That's support for you.
Then came the equaliser, and this lad in front of us (wearing the latest kit and a green and gold scarf, natch) turned round and celebrated like, right in my face. Cue more "ROOOOONEHH" chants and other things of that nature.
But yes, as we all know, the scoreline didn't stay like that and after Barca scored number two, me and my mate couldn't contain ourselves anymore and decided that would be a good moment to show our true colours, so to speak, and start up a cracking rendition of "Liiiiverpooooool, Liiiiiverpooooool" right there, in the green and gold lad's face, surrounded by angry Mancs. Oh, the abuse we got. Was fucking worth it though.
(I probably only got away with it because I'm a girl)
Also had the, erm, privilege of watching Kenny's first game in charge against United in a pub in Warrington. Didn't get into any trouble like, was just surrounded by bad, bad Mancs all day. Dreadful.