Boobies

So, apparently when one wears a cotton shirt, bra-less in the morning cool on Pacific Ave. one might as well put a sign on one's chest that says; "Go ahead, berate me! I want you to! I love being ogled and called honey-lips!" I mean, don't we all? It's not that I'm some kind of beauty queen; I'm a little too intelligent to think they're struck by my ravishing beauty, rather, I think they just like making someone feel small and ashamed.

I remember being completely flabbergasted when men started cat-calling to me in public when I was around 12 (I was tall for my age). It was my first inkling of feminist consciousness; I realized what it was to have a body that was not wholly my own--men seemed to have access to it verbally as if I was a pair of shoes or a necktie--"nice shoes, where'd you get them?" "hey baby, nice ass, you gonna share with me?"

Besides, what's the deal? Do they think I'm going to say "YES! FINALLY! A man who knows how to talk to me! Let me run home and dump my husband so I can shack up with you!!!"?