Questions

Last night, after leaving a photo shoot location in the Meatpacking district, I found the neighborhood to be hopping with party-goers. There was a man dancing outside a restaurant who smiled and said, "You have dimples, right?" Less than 15 seconds after that, I got straight up ogled by another guy who asked, "How'd you get a body like a Maserati?"

I didn't answer either of these men because I felt as though the questioning might not end there. I will tell you though: I DO have dimples but as much as I wish I had a body like a Maserati, I fail to have 12 cylinders. Maybe he was confused because I have "excellence through passion and extraordinarily efficient form that absolutely exudes power and personality".

Easy mistake.

Hello Old Friends

I know I haven't been keeping up with my bloggerly duties but I frankly haven't had the time, patience to sit at my computer or the desire to relive what has been a constant stream of obnoxious yet boring comments from complete strangers.

While the comments have been pretty cliche lately I am astounded by the constant hounding that has been going on. I mean its a whistle here, a "hey baby" there but in the end they add up to a whole lot of grossness. I wonder if it was the NYC heat wave that caused people to act like total retard-horndogs.

There were a few cat calls that did stand out in my mind. Two were from gay men so I don't know if this really counts but I'll go ahead anyways:

Walking down East 7th Street, three men walked by and one looked at me and simply said "Mary". This "Mary" was so stretched out that I think there were about five extra syllables in it. Later that week while riding my bike on Broadway, a car pulled ahead of me and out the window I heard something to the extent of, "Oh Honey, check out that pussy!" I was so shocked I actually said out loud, "That's the second gay cat call I've gotten this week!" I'm not sure if he heard me but whatever... I was so confused.

On another note, there's a new falafel joint that opened up on 7th Street and I get the impression that the owner thinks he will get more business by standing outside and telling the women how beautiful they are. When I had an interaction with him he only politely asked me to come back later when I am hungry. I am still considering it but I fear I will be ogled by the rest of the employees when I accidentally drip hummus out of my mouth.

Not again!

Today I was in Tompkins Square Park again and a different man walked by me as I was sitting on a bench and said, "You have beautiful toes!" He then came over and said, "Do you realize how beautiful your toes are?" He sat down next to me and again told me how wonderful they were. I had been reading a magazine which I slowly put away in my purse. He must have anticipated me leaving because he then said in such a sincere way, "Oh, no - you don't have to go! They're really beautiful." To which I replied, "Thank you," and quickly walked away.

I think I might be spending the rest of summer wearing boots.

Tompkins Square Park

It was nice out today so I was wearing flip flops. A man noticed and said, "I like your toes... Can I suck them?" Then after I ignored him and passed by I faintly heard him say, "Can I?"

East 7th Street & Avenue A

I walked by Niagara on my way home from dinner last night and prepared myself to either ignore the usual beggars or meekly apologize for my lack of change. But no one asked me for money. What I got was this:

"I'm ready to bang you all night, mama." And as I quickly walked away I heard, "No, come on, I'll bang ya!"

I think we can all appreciate the fact that this homeless man was offering a service as opposed to just seeking a handout. If only more people were this resourceful.

Getting Used to It

I don't know which is worse: being so acutely aware of every cat call that you receive or being able to ignore it.

Of course, over the years, I've learned to let them slide for the most part, reserving my vocalizations for the most interesting and offensive cat calls. Since starting this Cat Call Appall project, I've become much more aware of these acts again and usually don't let them slide as easily. I know mom always used to say ignore them and they'll go way but, much like flies, they just seem to multiply.

Seeing as I probably got my first cat call when I was 13 or so, I've been getting cat called for well over a decade now. Mom usually has great advice but ignoring the problem just doesn't seem to do the trick.

Last night on St. Mark's an SUV drove by and the passenger rolled down his window so he could make kissing noises at me. I responded with a very dry, "Yeah, yeah" in a way that DeNiro's blonde wife from the Bronx in "Raging Bull" might have said it. As I crossed the street I gave the car the finger. They probably didn't even see me do it but it was somewhat satisfying to at least respond to their oversized vehicle.

Accidental Eye Contact

It becomes a habit to avoid eye contact with people on the street when you live in a large city. It's not that most city folk are mean or anti-social, it is just that we've learned from experience that making eye contact ups your chances for being sucked into a situation with a crazy, mean, or horny person. Here's what happened to my friend in Chicago when she made Accidental Eye Contact (AEC) with someone on the subway:

I was taking the train home from work, engrossed in a novel. At some
point, I smelled meat, which brought me out of my book enough to
glance around for the source. It turned out to be a sandwich, being
consumed by the man sitting next to me. In the biggest mistake of my
day, I made very brief eye contact with said man. He was an older guy,
maybe in his late 70s, and apparently he'd been just waiting for a
reason to start talking.

First he asked me if I wanted some of his sandwich. I smiled and said
no, thanks.

Next he asked me, "How old are you, 20?" (I was I think 28 at the
time.) I responded with a chuckle and something vague, like, "not
quite" and went back to my book.

His follow-up question was, "Have you ever been loved like you've
never been loved before?" I believe I managed to get out, "I'm good,
thanks," before I decided to stop responding and just keep my eyes on
my book. But he was not to be deterred. Through the next few train
stops he detailed everything that he could do to me, to give me love
like I'd never had before. I was simultaneously laughing, trying not
to make my laughter very obvious (but I'm sure failing), and trying
desperately to concentrate on my book. Finally I just gave up and left
the train before my stop, to wait for the next one.

By the way, I did have my wedding ring on.