Disclaimer: The author would like to note that this piece is intended as satire to bring attention to the issue of catcalling.
Women love when I call them baby, even if they aren’t mine. Women love compliments, so I give them out daily on a street corner. It makes me feel good, letting a woman know how sexy she is, like I’m sharing a little goodness with the world. If I didn’t, how would she know she looks smokin’? I mean, why else would she be wearing a mini skirt, if not to impress me? She looks extra nice today, so I let her know.
It’s strange, though. They never seem to thank me, when I’m out here doing this great service to the world. Like, geez, would it kill a girl to say thank you every once in awhile? Women are rude. Rude, but hot. But I love when they play hard to get. I love the chase. I’ll gladly play along.
I followed this girl the other day. Amazing chick. God, you should’ve seen her. College chick. I shout, “Hey baby!” She doesn’t respond. So naturally, I manage to chase her down and grab her by the arm. She screams, as if I’d hurt her or something! Crazy, right? I was only trying to be friendly. I reassure her, “I just wanna know if you have a boyfriend.” She ignores me and walks away. Whatever. I don’t need her. There are plenty of girls on the streets. She wasn’t that cute anyway.
So, I’m with a bunch of my guys one night, when this girl walks by. It’s raining and she has an umbrella that partially covers her face but I just know she’ll be hot. I shout, “Hey pretty lady, let me talk to you!” She keeps walking. Now at this point I’m pissed. I’m out with my guys, we’re trying to have a good time, and this chick just straight up ignores me. Talk about embarrassing. One of my guys, being the loyal man he is, runs after her. “Hey listen, my friend is trying to talk to you!” he shouts. She keeps walking. Sometimes, I really hate women.
I take my baby out for a ride one night. (By baby, I mean my bike.) I got this rad new mask, makes me look like I’ve got a skull for a face. Wicked cool. I’m thinking, how can a stud like myself have trouble with the ladies? So I ride out and I’m parked in an alley to catch my breath when a girl walks by. I wonder what she’s doing by herself so late at night. I shout at her. She doesn’t respond. Maybe she didn’t hear me. I rev up my engine and follow her. I park my bike in front of her as she crosses the street. I mean, she wouldn’t have stopped otherwise. “You got a boyfriend? What are you doing alone so late at night? Want me to give you a ride home?” I ask. She says she has a boyfriend. Well that doesn’t mean I can’t give her a ride home, right? She declines.
I’m fed up at this point so I go home. Tough crowd. But then again, it’s a tough crowd every night.