(no subject)
Living in a city like New York where a girl walks the streets, she is bound to receive appreciative comments from men.
I have noticed that most of the men who whistle, wink, smile, comment, or look me up and down as if I were the last hot sausage on a street vendor's cart are black or hispanic. (I have never had an Asian man say "mmm, you so hot" as he passed, and the white men all look like they're wondering if they remembered to program their TiVo.)
I can usually tell as I see a man coming toward me if he's going to say something or not. He's walking with his head up, surveying everything around him, but not too fast. He might be any age, in a suit or in jeans, often from another country--I guess, where people are friendlier. What I usually get is "beautiful," or "hot!" or "you got it" or "fine!" (Once when I was wearing a Calvin Klein t-shirt a man said, with his eyes glued to my bosom, "I LOVE Calvin Klein!" )
I am not saying all of this because I think I am as hot as Britney Spears in August, 3rd barbecue sandwich in hand, 2nd wedding reception under her belt. I'm just saying, the audience is clearly there, and its members are applauding.
So yesterday, while walking through Grand Central Station, I spot a man of color coming toward me. Probably about 50, backwards baseball cap, messenger bag, relaxed smile (with a few teeth missing.) I did not give him any encouragement, and kept on my path with a pleasant and vague expression on my face. But I could tell that something was coming.
He was a mere foot away when he said, under his breath, "Hey, chubby."
I actually turned around to see if there was a chubby person behind me; there was not. He was talking to me!
There are no words.
(Except, whatever happened to "foxy lady?!")
I have noticed that most of the men who whistle, wink, smile, comment, or look me up and down as if I were the last hot sausage on a street vendor's cart are black or hispanic. (I have never had an Asian man say "mmm, you so hot" as he passed, and the white men all look like they're wondering if they remembered to program their TiVo.)
I can usually tell as I see a man coming toward me if he's going to say something or not. He's walking with his head up, surveying everything around him, but not too fast. He might be any age, in a suit or in jeans, often from another country--I guess, where people are friendlier. What I usually get is "beautiful," or "hot!" or "you got it" or "fine!" (Once when I was wearing a Calvin Klein t-shirt a man said, with his eyes glued to my bosom, "I LOVE Calvin Klein!" )
I am not saying all of this because I think I am as hot as Britney Spears in August, 3rd barbecue sandwich in hand, 2nd wedding reception under her belt. I'm just saying, the audience is clearly there, and its members are applauding.
So yesterday, while walking through Grand Central Station, I spot a man of color coming toward me. Probably about 50, backwards baseball cap, messenger bag, relaxed smile (with a few teeth missing.) I did not give him any encouragement, and kept on my path with a pleasant and vague expression on my face. But I could tell that something was coming.
He was a mere foot away when he said, under his breath, "Hey, chubby."
I actually turned around to see if there was a chubby person behind me; there was not. He was talking to me!
There are no words.
(Except, whatever happened to "foxy lady?!")