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.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Friday, June 13, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
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.
I think I might be spending the rest of summer wearing boots.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
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?"
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
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.
"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.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
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.
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.
Monday, April 28, 2008
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.
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.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Jubblies
Here's another traumatizing experience that happened to one of my male friends:
I was on the rush hour 4/5 train with my messenger bag slung around my back and some fucking midgety-old man in a baseball hat and a Member's Only jacket squeezed in tight next to me. We got to the next stop, people piled on, and the back of one of his hands kind of grazed my jubblies. I figured, okay, well, it's crowded, he probably just slipped a bit. The next stop, it happened again and I flashed the guy a "What the fuck is your problem?" look and he kind of gave me a cold, blank stare. I moved my messenger bag to protect my crotch/loins and try to push my way to a different spot on the train.
Disturbing....
I was on the rush hour 4/5 train with my messenger bag slung around my back and some fucking midgety-old man in a baseball hat and a Member's Only jacket squeezed in tight next to me. We got to the next stop, people piled on, and the back of one of his hands kind of grazed my jubblies. I figured, okay, well, it's crowded, he probably just slipped a bit. The next stop, it happened again and I flashed the guy a "What the fuck is your problem?" look and he kind of gave me a cold, blank stare. I moved my messenger bag to protect my crotch/loins and try to push my way to a different spot on the train.
Disturbing....
Friday, April 18, 2008
Honey Pie
We always hear about catcalls happening to women but often men are the recipients of harrassment:
So I was a little early meeting my girlfriend at her apartment uptown, so I thought I'd go to the local liquor store and pick up some wine. Walking innocently enough along, I heard from over my shoulder "Wanna fuck me tonight, Honey Pie?". I briefly turned around, expecting the cliche, drunk, crazy lady... and was a little startled (and saddened) to see a rather normally dressed woman, rolling a sort of designer piece of luggage as though on her way to catch a shuttle to LA for a lunch meeting or something. She clearly was in some kind of mental distress, perhaps off some medication... I'm not just being modest in a "She must be looney tunes to want me to fuck her tonight" kind of way... she was nuts.
Anyway, I thought nothing of it (remember... I was visiting my girlfriend... so I couldn't really even consider the offer in good conscience). I picked up the wine and went to wait by the subway exit for my girlfriend when who should I see but my new lady friend stalking that very exit. I crossed the street pretty quickly and tried not to look like I was stalking this unfortunate woman as I watched her dry hump the CVS on the corner and squat in some kind of mock-defecation, pointing at herself as she did as if to indicate to passers-by that yes, indeed, she is pretending to shit for them. All in all a sad display, even sadder perhaps that it might have been one of the more romantic things a stranger has flattered me with.
Just goes to show, given the right neurochemical breakdown, even men can be the victims of cat calls.
-Anonymous
So I was a little early meeting my girlfriend at her apartment uptown, so I thought I'd go to the local liquor store and pick up some wine. Walking innocently enough along, I heard from over my shoulder "Wanna fuck me tonight, Honey Pie?". I briefly turned around, expecting the cliche, drunk, crazy lady... and was a little startled (and saddened) to see a rather normally dressed woman, rolling a sort of designer piece of luggage as though on her way to catch a shuttle to LA for a lunch meeting or something. She clearly was in some kind of mental distress, perhaps off some medication... I'm not just being modest in a "She must be looney tunes to want me to fuck her tonight" kind of way... she was nuts.
Anyway, I thought nothing of it (remember... I was visiting my girlfriend... so I couldn't really even consider the offer in good conscience). I picked up the wine and went to wait by the subway exit for my girlfriend when who should I see but my new lady friend stalking that very exit. I crossed the street pretty quickly and tried not to look like I was stalking this unfortunate woman as I watched her dry hump the CVS on the corner and squat in some kind of mock-defecation, pointing at herself as she did as if to indicate to passers-by that yes, indeed, she is pretending to shit for them. All in all a sad display, even sadder perhaps that it might have been one of the more romantic things a stranger has flattered me with.
Just goes to show, given the right neurochemical breakdown, even men can be the victims of cat calls.
-Anonymous
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Iron My Shirt, Mrs. Future President
Many of you have already heard about the hecklers at one of Hillary Clinton's rallies in NH. They repeatedly shouted, "Iron my shirt!" while holding signs with the same message. As they were being taken away, she responded with, "Aah, the remnants of sexism, alive and well!" which was received with laughter and applause. Nice comeback, lady! If you weren't running for office I wish you had dumped a bottle of Downy Wrinkle Remover on their heads!
I debated about posting this very recent and well-publicized cat call because, well, it could be argued that its not a cat call at all. But when I looked up the definition on Merriam Webster's website I found:
catcall
I debated about posting this very recent and well-publicized cat call because, well, it could be argued that its not a cat call at all. But when I looked up the definition on Merriam Webster's website I found:
catcall
- Function:
- noun
- Date:
- 1693
1 : a loud or raucous cry made especially to express disapproval (as at a sports event) 2 : a derisive remark : criticism
— catcall verb
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Pretty Boy
A few weeks ago I was walking home at night through Alphabet City. I believe it was a Thursday night, the beginning of the party weekend in my neighborhood. There was a group of young men, early twenties it seemed, walking towards me on Avenue B between 4th and 5th Streets. They were clearly out partying and probably drunk. They were ogling me as they approached me but I could not understand what they were saying because they were European (I'm not exactly sure which foreign language they were slurring and cat calling in but it was certainly directed towards me). I believe there were about 9 of them and after the first 8 or so passed by me, the last one grabbed me by the wrist and stopped me.
This caught me so off guard and angered me so much that it has taken me weeks to get around to writing about it. I haven't even told my friends or family because the whole experience upset me so much.
I tried to shake him off of me and yelled, "Get your hand off me!" He said in heavily accented English, "My friend said I could kiss you, can I kiss you?" I finally had to twist my arm and use my other fist to knock his hand off my wrist to get him off of me.
THANK YOU to my high school and college gym teachers who insisted upon teaching self-defense classes!
Once I was loose and was able to take a few steps away from him, I was not longer scared but just angry. I started screaming at him. He just seemed amused by the whole situation. He kept asking if he could kiss me and I kept saying no. For a moment, I thought this was a wonderful opportunity to get a photo for this blog. As I dug through my purse with one hand, searching for my camera, I kept one hand free so I could keep him at a distance, if necessary (oh, what I will do for this blog!)
He kept bothering me but he kept his hands off me. I told him I was going to take a picture of him for my cat calling blog but that didn't seem to bother him! He was either incredibly drunk or incredibly VAIN (probably both since he was a "pretty boy"). I finally saw the pointlessness in the photo. I was just prolonging getting away from this creep and it was only going to boost his ego if I took the picture. Once I backed away enough I turned around and walked briskly home. He must have left to catch up with his other drunken friends.
So that's one less photo for this blog but at least I escaped unharmed and only slightly emotionally bruised.
This caught me so off guard and angered me so much that it has taken me weeks to get around to writing about it. I haven't even told my friends or family because the whole experience upset me so much.
I tried to shake him off of me and yelled, "Get your hand off me!" He said in heavily accented English, "My friend said I could kiss you, can I kiss you?" I finally had to twist my arm and use my other fist to knock his hand off my wrist to get him off of me.
THANK YOU to my high school and college gym teachers who insisted upon teaching self-defense classes!
Once I was loose and was able to take a few steps away from him, I was not longer scared but just angry. I started screaming at him. He just seemed amused by the whole situation. He kept asking if he could kiss me and I kept saying no. For a moment, I thought this was a wonderful opportunity to get a photo for this blog. As I dug through my purse with one hand, searching for my camera, I kept one hand free so I could keep him at a distance, if necessary (oh, what I will do for this blog!)
He kept bothering me but he kept his hands off me. I told him I was going to take a picture of him for my cat calling blog but that didn't seem to bother him! He was either incredibly drunk or incredibly VAIN (probably both since he was a "pretty boy"). I finally saw the pointlessness in the photo. I was just prolonging getting away from this creep and it was only going to boost his ego if I took the picture. Once I backed away enough I turned around and walked briskly home. He must have left to catch up with his other drunken friends.
So that's one less photo for this blog but at least I escaped unharmed and only slightly emotionally bruised.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Comeback
I rarely respond to cat callers so as not to egg them on but sometimes, if I'm in a mood, something will just spew out. Last week I walked by the construction site on my street (how cliche) and heard from two men, "Hey beautiful!", then, as I walked past them, "Don't you speak English?!" I responded quickly with, "I don't speak YOUR language!!!".
At the time I was pretty proud of myself for responding so succinctly and without vulgarities but I now wonder if those guys even got the point.
At the time I was pretty proud of myself for responding so succinctly and without vulgarities but I now wonder if those guys even got the point.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Classic Cat Call
This is a picture from 1998 of some guy who was cat calling me and my friend while we were trying to do a photo shoot on our front fire escape on East 2nd Street (btw B & C). He wouldn't leave us alone so I took this picture of him thinking he would be ashamed of himself and walk away. Instead he got very angry and started yelling at us. Alphabet City was still scary back then so we decided to take the shoot into our back courtyard.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Silverspoon
Here's one of my favorite classic cat calls (circa 2002):
Back in this era, I was constantly being compared to just about every blonde actress out there: Reese Witherspoon, Zoe Deschanel, Alicia Silverstone, Chloe Sevigny, Sarah Michelle Gellar, Cameron Diaz, and even the Olsen twins. Never mind that none of these actresses look alike, I did not think that any of them looked like me (save, Reese).
After exiting a subway station, I noticed a homeless man ogling me. I could see he was about to say something and I fully expected it to be a raunchy cat call, but slowly and loudly he called out, "Alicia SILVERspoon!"
I laughed out loud because it was sheer brilliance! I was just glad he didn't yell out "Zchloe Gellar Diaz"!
Back in this era, I was constantly being compared to just about every blonde actress out there: Reese Witherspoon, Zoe Deschanel, Alicia Silverstone, Chloe Sevigny, Sarah Michelle Gellar, Cameron Diaz, and even the Olsen twins. Never mind that none of these actresses look alike, I did not think that any of them looked like me (save, Reese).
After exiting a subway station, I noticed a homeless man ogling me. I could see he was about to say something and I fully expected it to be a raunchy cat call, but slowly and loudly he called out, "Alicia SILVERspoon!"
I laughed out loud because it was sheer brilliance! I was just glad he didn't yell out "Zchloe Gellar Diaz"!
Monday, March 17, 2008
A Picture is Worth a Thousand Cat Calls
One might think that classy events attract only classy people but, sadly, that is not the case. Recently, I was photographing a wine tasting event in Austin, TX. I was trying to cover an overall room shot to show how many people were attendance but I kept encountering this obstacle: a young man repeatedly made lewd remarks directly at me. Aside from the fact that this douchebag was being rude and offensive, he was ruining my shots! I had to keep reshooting it until he got bored and stopped!This experience reminded me of something that happened a couple weeks ago. I went to a photography opening in New York City where I expected to meet lots of fabulous, cultured people. I did, in fact, have a conversation about art with a nice woman until we were interrupted. Two German men came up to us and started talking to us in the middle of my sentence. He was clearly a little drunk and said, "What are you two lovely ladies talking about?" I responded, "We WERE talking about art." He vaguely apologized but then continued to interupt our conversation. We finally decided to go to the bar to get a drink in order to get away from them. I was clearly going to need a drink if I was going to enjoy this event.
After a whole series of older men hitting on me and various other woman (in only pathetic, not offensive ways) I accidentally walked by the two German men again. They called out, "hey there baby!", and as I walked quickly passed them, pretending to look at the photography they hollared, "see anything you like here!??? I got cat called in a "classy" photography reception! I thought about taking their picture for this blog but I couldn't risk any extra attention it might draw.
At the end of the reception I walked out with a fellow photographer who happened to be male. It didn't stop the same two men from yelling at me again after I walked out the door. They were sauced and standing outside right by the door harassing me and probably multiple other woman. UNREAL!
Please, if you have any cat call stories or photos of these ridiculous people, please submit them to this blog! Thanks!
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Beach Stroker
Its a bit blurry but that just saves me the trouble of having to blur out the naughty bits myself. You get the point though...
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Actions Speak Louder Than Words
I am finally on a much needed trip to Mexico this week. Its taking days to let go of the stress from work, the dreariness of New York City and the sadness of everyday life. Just planning a trip is stressful enough, from attaining a working ATM card, traveling with layovers and dealing with airlines when they destroy your brand new suitcase.
Yesterday, I finally started to let go of all that and just enjoy myself. I got away from all the people and just laid myself out on this gorgeous beach. There were still people there, mind you. Most of them were just at the designated hotel lounge chairs whereas I decided to lay out on a towel in the sand just off to the side from the hotel. I untied the back of my bikini top to avoid horrible tan lines - an innocent (yet perhaps vain) move on my part. Laying on my stomach I allowed my neck to go limp so I could lay my head down. It wasn't long before I drifted off into that state where you are dreaming but still concious of what's around you. I was having some beautiful dream about food, sunshine & loving, caring men (all the good things in life) when I suddenly felt a need to pick my head up.
There was nothing in particular to signal me except that maybe I realized I was feeling a little too relaxed. I looked up and saw that a young man who had previously been drinking a soda on one of the lounge chairs had moved over to the sand just enough so that he was in front of me about 10 feet away or so. His legs were bent and spread open so I noticed a little something peeking out of his shorts. I quickly looked away and pretended to write a text message on my phone because I figured he would be embarrassed that I saw. Then I remembered all the stories that my girlfriends have told me in the past about similar situations and I realized that this was probably not an accident. He proved me right when a moment later he reached for the stuff and starting getting himself off!
I couldn't bring myself to look again because I was so horrified and afraid that he would think I liked it. But I couldn't miss an opportunity like this so I continued pretending to text but what I really did was take a camera phone shot of him jerking off! I scared myself when I realized how loud the snapshot sound is on my Treo so I quickly tied my bikini top, threw my things together and ran off the beach to meet some friends having lunch by the hotel pool!
One score for team Non-Perv! I sort of felt like the pervert taking the picture but I felt that it needed to be done. I will be sure to upload it on this site in a few days because its too expensive for me to use my cell phone while out of the country. Don't worry - I think its too blurry to see anything too horrifying!
Make sure to check back to see it!
Yesterday, I finally started to let go of all that and just enjoy myself. I got away from all the people and just laid myself out on this gorgeous beach. There were still people there, mind you. Most of them were just at the designated hotel lounge chairs whereas I decided to lay out on a towel in the sand just off to the side from the hotel. I untied the back of my bikini top to avoid horrible tan lines - an innocent (yet perhaps vain) move on my part. Laying on my stomach I allowed my neck to go limp so I could lay my head down. It wasn't long before I drifted off into that state where you are dreaming but still concious of what's around you. I was having some beautiful dream about food, sunshine & loving, caring men (all the good things in life) when I suddenly felt a need to pick my head up.
There was nothing in particular to signal me except that maybe I realized I was feeling a little too relaxed. I looked up and saw that a young man who had previously been drinking a soda on one of the lounge chairs had moved over to the sand just enough so that he was in front of me about 10 feet away or so. His legs were bent and spread open so I noticed a little something peeking out of his shorts. I quickly looked away and pretended to write a text message on my phone because I figured he would be embarrassed that I saw. Then I remembered all the stories that my girlfriends have told me in the past about similar situations and I realized that this was probably not an accident. He proved me right when a moment later he reached for the stuff and starting getting himself off!
I couldn't bring myself to look again because I was so horrified and afraid that he would think I liked it. But I couldn't miss an opportunity like this so I continued pretending to text but what I really did was take a camera phone shot of him jerking off! I scared myself when I realized how loud the snapshot sound is on my Treo so I quickly tied my bikini top, threw my things together and ran off the beach to meet some friends having lunch by the hotel pool!
One score for team Non-Perv! I sort of felt like the pervert taking the picture but I felt that it needed to be done. I will be sure to upload it on this site in a few days because its too expensive for me to use my cell phone while out of the country. Don't worry - I think its too blurry to see anything too horrifying!
Make sure to check back to see it!
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Hormonal Teenage Boys
I am still waiting for the flood of entries of amazingly funny, scary and offensive cat call stories to come into my inbox. I am just not getting enough of my own on a daily basis to make my point here. I did walk by a construction site on my street the other day and got a classic, "Hi there, beautiful!" Not exactly offensive but still uncomfortable.
I am thinking of renaming this blog "Uncomfortable Moments in NYC". I was coming home from seeing a friend's show in Brooklyn last night and, after having one too many drinks at the friendly, neighborhood gay bar, I hopped on the L train back into Manhattan. Now, I remember from years of living in Jersey City, people pitying me for having to take the Path train back late at night and how the NYC subway is SOOOO much better. Its all bullshit! They both suck! The L train came within about 10 minutes but then it just sat there in the station for another 20!!!
I had the unfortunate experience of grabbing a seat right in the middle of a group of horny teenage boys. I had one kid on the left (claiming to be 21) telling me in detail how beautiful my eyes were and one kid on my right asking me out to dinner. I can only imagine where he would take me - Taco Bell? I told him no. He asked why. I lied and said I had a boyfriend. He said, "what does that have to do with us?" WTF!? There was no stopping him. Across from me were three 15-year-olds gazing in admiration at their ballsy, older friends. When they first asked me how old I was, I said they didn't want to know. By the end of the conversation, I was practically screaming to the whole train, "Listen, I can't go out with you, I'm thirty. I'm THIR-TY!!!!
My phone slipped out of my coat pocket and clanked on the hard subway seat. The guy to my left picked it up and handed it to me while the other laughed and said, "he could have just stolen it - ha ha!!!". I was looking all over the place making sure I had gotten on the right train. The only thing that could make this experience worse is if I had gotten on a Brooklyn bound train. Luckily, I had not and I bolted off the train as soon as it stopped in Manhattan. A 45 minute train ride for only two stops!!!
I am thinking of renaming this blog "Uncomfortable Moments in NYC". I was coming home from seeing a friend's show in Brooklyn last night and, after having one too many drinks at the friendly, neighborhood gay bar, I hopped on the L train back into Manhattan. Now, I remember from years of living in Jersey City, people pitying me for having to take the Path train back late at night and how the NYC subway is SOOOO much better. Its all bullshit! They both suck! The L train came within about 10 minutes but then it just sat there in the station for another 20!!!
I had the unfortunate experience of grabbing a seat right in the middle of a group of horny teenage boys. I had one kid on the left (claiming to be 21) telling me in detail how beautiful my eyes were and one kid on my right asking me out to dinner. I can only imagine where he would take me - Taco Bell? I told him no. He asked why. I lied and said I had a boyfriend. He said, "what does that have to do with us?" WTF!? There was no stopping him. Across from me were three 15-year-olds gazing in admiration at their ballsy, older friends. When they first asked me how old I was, I said they didn't want to know. By the end of the conversation, I was practically screaming to the whole train, "Listen, I can't go out with you, I'm thirty. I'm THIR-TY!!!!
My phone slipped out of my coat pocket and clanked on the hard subway seat. The guy to my left picked it up and handed it to me while the other laughed and said, "he could have just stolen it - ha ha!!!". I was looking all over the place making sure I had gotten on the right train. The only thing that could make this experience worse is if I had gotten on a Brooklyn bound train. Luckily, I had not and I bolted off the train as soon as it stopped in Manhattan. A 45 minute train ride for only two stops!!!
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Roman Cock
I don't think this story really fits into the traditional cat call mold because no words were spoken but I found it very fitting for this blog anyway:
I got to Rome yesterday, went out today in search of groceries and saw my first Roman cock. It was a big one. I was walking through the piazza around the corner from my place where the bus depot is when something caught my eye: a young man standing in the rain, pants around his ankles, stroking his half-mast dick. I felt like I just received the official welcome to Rome!
He didn't stop when he realized I saw him, but kind of hid himself a bit behind a closed news kiosk. Nearby there was a coffee truck so I stopped, had a cup and pointed out Mr. Masturbator to the guys working there. He was still going, alternating between hiding himself and coming out in the open. We were all dying laughing! When I finished my coffee and left he still hadn't finished...I'm never leaving the house without a camera again!
-Kristine
This incident reminds me of my first experience in Italy. I had been dreaming of going for years and when I finally got off that overnight train from Paris to Florence I was in heaven! I didn't care that I hadn't slept a wink in the sleeper car where a young, hot Catholic priest had been ogling me. I didn't care that was lugging my belongings to an unknown hostel in a country where I was just barely proficient in the language. I didn't care that I was stinky and sweaty from the hot August sun. I had reached the Motherland!
I hadn't been on the Italian soil for more than 15 minutes when a man riding by on a motocicletta looked me right in the eye and formed a V with his first two fingers. No, he wasn't forming a peace sign. He brought those fingers up to his mouth and started wagging his nasty tongue at me!
Who says chivalry is dead?
I got to Rome yesterday, went out today in search of groceries and saw my first Roman cock. It was a big one. I was walking through the piazza around the corner from my place where the bus depot is when something caught my eye: a young man standing in the rain, pants around his ankles, stroking his half-mast dick. I felt like I just received the official welcome to Rome!
He didn't stop when he realized I saw him, but kind of hid himself a bit behind a closed news kiosk. Nearby there was a coffee truck so I stopped, had a cup and pointed out Mr. Masturbator to the guys working there. He was still going, alternating between hiding himself and coming out in the open. We were all dying laughing! When I finished my coffee and left he still hadn't finished...I'm never leaving the house without a camera again!
-Kristine
This incident reminds me of my first experience in Italy. I had been dreaming of going for years and when I finally got off that overnight train from Paris to Florence I was in heaven! I didn't care that I hadn't slept a wink in the sleeper car where a young, hot Catholic priest had been ogling me. I didn't care that was lugging my belongings to an unknown hostel in a country where I was just barely proficient in the language. I didn't care that I was stinky and sweaty from the hot August sun. I had reached the Motherland!
I hadn't been on the Italian soil for more than 15 minutes when a man riding by on a motocicletta looked me right in the eye and formed a V with his first two fingers. No, he wasn't forming a peace sign. He brought those fingers up to his mouth and started wagging his nasty tongue at me!
Who says chivalry is dead?
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Mean Streets
This morning a man on Avenue A said to me, "You look beautiful, honey!" followed up by, "Have a nice day"! Before I had a chance to decide if I was upset over the first comment I quietly replied, "You too."
Just as New York Magazine comes out with their cover story about the decrease in crime here, I start to wonder if cat calls are on the decline as well - at least the really raunchy ones. While this would be a good thing, I must admit that it would make maintaining this relatively new cat call blog a little challenging.
I am sure they are still happening on a daily basis but maybe just not in my neighborhood or in my age group! I feel lucky to live in a zone that reported zero murders in 2007 but if cat calls are decreasing as well I am going to need more people to share their own stories. I know there are out there so please write to me!
Just as New York Magazine comes out with their cover story about the decrease in crime here, I start to wonder if cat calls are on the decline as well - at least the really raunchy ones. While this would be a good thing, I must admit that it would make maintaining this relatively new cat call blog a little challenging.
I am sure they are still happening on a daily basis but maybe just not in my neighborhood or in my age group! I feel lucky to live in a zone that reported zero murders in 2007 but if cat calls are decreasing as well I am going to need more people to share their own stories. I know there are out there so please write to me!
Monday, January 7, 2008
Nothin's Free These Days
One of the worst kind of cat calls is the one that is following by panhandling. Today I walked by two men on East 7th Street and one of them slurred something like, "Yooorr kyoot..." and then "we LUFFF you... can you spare some change?" Somehow the "spare some change" part came out pretty articulately.
It left me pretty down because, not only did I not give him anything, I also realized that the cat call was meant to butter me up. I don't think it was really true lufff.
It left me pretty down because, not only did I not give him anything, I also realized that the cat call was meant to butter me up. I don't think it was really true lufff.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Brooklyn Ass
Once my best friend and I were walking through Central Park and we passed two large African American dudes (my key demographic) on a bench. As we went by, they looked me up and down and one exclaimed,
"Damn girl, you got a Brooklyn ass."
My friend and I waited until we rounded the corner to burst out laughing. We were fairly new to the city and lived out in the very suburban Forest Hills. I almost turned around and said
"But I live in Queens?"
I finally moved to Brooklyn, just to give my Ass a proper home.
-KJ
Also check out this cat call at:
http://jellykean.wordpress.com/how-i-named-my-blog/
-KJ
Also check out this cat call at:
http://jellykean.wordpress.com
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