When I was shoveling the sidewalk a few days ago, a truck full of guys drove by (as close to the walkway as they could, in order to splash me with slush) and whistled "Hot chick!"
Perhaps it's the season for catcalls, because today, as I was walking home from the train station, another truck full of young men drove by and hooted through their open window.
At any rate, I know I'm supposed to find it demeaning, but it just makes me laugh. And reminds me of Peru. Oh, Peru...
The minds of men will forever be foreign to me. Why would anyone want to whistle at a girl in a winter coat with completely wind-whipped hair? Bent under the weight of a snow-laden shovel or a backpack?
They're an odd breed, I tell you.
"What, Sir, would the people of the earth be without woman? They would be scarce, Sir, mighty scarce." Mark Twain