(no subject)
On Sunday I took the metro to Cleveland Park, picked up some photos and frames and then rode the train back to Columbia Heights. After dropping those things off at the apartment, I walked to Mt. Pleasant, bought some picture-hangers at a hardware store, took a meandering route to 11th and Park, bought some iced coffee at Columbia Heights Coffee and walked straight home. I was wearing brown riding boots and a sleeveless, knee-length blue dress with a white tank top underneath. No cleavage, very little leg. Some...arm. I trust everybody reading this has a general idea of what I look like, and thus, of how ridiculous all of the following is:
1. While walking up 14th street, struggling with the two big, awkward frames I was carrying, I heard a loud, stage-whispered "Psssssst!" I look to my right, and the driver of a sedan is stopped at the light and gesturing at me with his index finger crooked, beckoning. I raise my eyebrows and keep walking; his three passengers laugh. RATING ON THE CREEPOMETER: Maybe a 5. He wins back some points for his friends laughing at him. Also, they were all in their thirties, they looked clean-cut, and the car was nice but nondescript. Maybe a Camry. For some reason, when there's a "wtf?" demographic factor to catcalls, I am not as annoyed. The element of surprise throws me off, maybe. Or I am racist/xenophobic/classist/whatever. I hate poor people! There, I've said it.
2. A youth on a bike rides by me on the sidewalk: "How you doin'?" RATING: 7. His tone was all suggestive and gross, and street harrassment seems more unsettling when it comes from somebody on or in a swiftly-moving vehicle that is passing very close to your person. Also, "how you doin'" is lacking in vitality. A little more imagination next time, hombre.
3. Seconds later, a middle-aged man comes around the corner, pushing a stroller. "I like those boots." "Thanks," I said. RATING: 3. His age and the stroller work to his advantage. Also, I, too, like my boots. Feel free to compliment them in a friendly tone of voice anytime, men of Columbia Heights.
4. And seconds after that, an older lady in some kind of shiny, mid-90s green party dress exclaims something about "nice color blue!" After a second or two I realize that she's talking to me, and I say, "I'm sorry?" "You look very pretty today!" she said. "Why, thank you," I replied. RATING: 1. She may have been a little off-balanced, or possibly homeless, but I don't suppose this interaction could have been any less threatening than it already was. Grams plus Nice Boots Man canceled out that first kid on the bike and then some. And right after this I discovered a big dollar-plus type store on Mt. Pleasant street, where I got a fake Spongebob Squarepants coffee mug with "Costa Rica" printed next to a outrageously bad drawing of Squidward. So at this point I was feeling pretty good about our new neighborhood, yes indeed.
5. But then I went into the CVS near the metro, and there were two teenage boys out front on their bikes, waiting for a friend who was inside. I was kind of admiring their outfits, especially their shoes, but one of them got fresh and said, "Hey sexy" in an aggressive, pissant-y sort of way. I kind of scrunched up my face and said, "uh, HI" and went into the store. When I came out, they were gone. Somewhere, out there, beneath the pale moonlight, there must be a good reply to have on hand for these kinds of encounters. I don't really know what that would be, though. Should I laugh? Say "Hey asshole?" Stop and confront them? Any of these options could be ineffective or end in disaster, and I'm torn between a) not letting snot-nosed faux-thug teenagers get away with feeling like they got one over on me, and b) antagonizing kids who live in my neighborhood. A neighborhood that is not immune to shootings, rock-throwings and the like. Hrm.
Anyway, right after this I stopped for coffee and saw a stack of City Papers in the coffeeshop. The cover story was about street harrassment. Oh, universe.
1. While walking up 14th street, struggling with the two big, awkward frames I was carrying, I heard a loud, stage-whispered "Psssssst!" I look to my right, and the driver of a sedan is stopped at the light and gesturing at me with his index finger crooked, beckoning. I raise my eyebrows and keep walking; his three passengers laugh. RATING ON THE CREEPOMETER: Maybe a 5. He wins back some points for his friends laughing at him. Also, they were all in their thirties, they looked clean-cut, and the car was nice but nondescript. Maybe a Camry. For some reason, when there's a "wtf?" demographic factor to catcalls, I am not as annoyed. The element of surprise throws me off, maybe. Or I am racist/xenophobic/classist/whatever. I hate poor people! There, I've said it.
2. A youth on a bike rides by me on the sidewalk: "How you doin'?" RATING: 7. His tone was all suggestive and gross, and street harrassment seems more unsettling when it comes from somebody on or in a swiftly-moving vehicle that is passing very close to your person. Also, "how you doin'" is lacking in vitality. A little more imagination next time, hombre.
3. Seconds later, a middle-aged man comes around the corner, pushing a stroller. "I like those boots." "Thanks," I said. RATING: 3. His age and the stroller work to his advantage. Also, I, too, like my boots. Feel free to compliment them in a friendly tone of voice anytime, men of Columbia Heights.
4. And seconds after that, an older lady in some kind of shiny, mid-90s green party dress exclaims something about "nice color blue!" After a second or two I realize that she's talking to me, and I say, "I'm sorry?" "You look very pretty today!" she said. "Why, thank you," I replied. RATING: 1. She may have been a little off-balanced, or possibly homeless, but I don't suppose this interaction could have been any less threatening than it already was. Grams plus Nice Boots Man canceled out that first kid on the bike and then some. And right after this I discovered a big dollar-plus type store on Mt. Pleasant street, where I got a fake Spongebob Squarepants coffee mug with "Costa Rica" printed next to a outrageously bad drawing of Squidward. So at this point I was feeling pretty good about our new neighborhood, yes indeed.
5. But then I went into the CVS near the metro, and there were two teenage boys out front on their bikes, waiting for a friend who was inside. I was kind of admiring their outfits, especially their shoes, but one of them got fresh and said, "Hey sexy" in an aggressive, pissant-y sort of way. I kind of scrunched up my face and said, "uh, HI" and went into the store. When I came out, they were gone. Somewhere, out there, beneath the pale moonlight, there must be a good reply to have on hand for these kinds of encounters. I don't really know what that would be, though. Should I laugh? Say "Hey asshole?" Stop and confront them? Any of these options could be ineffective or end in disaster, and I'm torn between a) not letting snot-nosed faux-thug teenagers get away with feeling like they got one over on me, and b) antagonizing kids who live in my neighborhood. A neighborhood that is not immune to shootings, rock-throwings and the like. Hrm.
Anyway, right after this I stopped for coffee and saw a stack of City Papers in the coffeeshop. The cover story was about street harrassment. Oh, universe.