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!!!

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?

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!

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.

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/