Well, there is hope for cat callers, and it comes in the form of my shallowness. Standing at the corner waiting for a light to change the other day, I hear a shout come from a car, "My GOD you are beautiful!!!" I glanced around to see if any Heidi Klum or Angelina Jolie look-alikes were around, and since there were none to speak of, I assumed he was shouting at me. Mid eye roll, I looked over to notice...the man shouting from the car was actually very attractive. So I smile. Innocent enough except for the fact that the moment he noticed I was smiling, he pulled a fucking u-turn and drove up next to me.
Shit. Fuck. Damn. In a Russian (SO HOT) accent, he proceeded to elaborate on just how pretty he thought I was, and asked if he could have my number. I don't know if it was the fact that he was attractive, the fact that his accent was hot, or the fact that he was riding in a BMW...but I gave him my number. I gave my number to a cat caller. And I actually have no excuse; I can't justify this by saying he had a James Joyce novel on his passenger seat, or Modest Mouse playing in the background. I gave a guy I don't know at all my phone number because he was hot and had a nice car, and I was flattered to be hit on by someone who was hot with a nice car.
Now before you put on your judging pants, when he actually did call me to ask me out for a date, I said no. My shallowness will only go so far as to indulge myself a touch by allowing him to flatter me; it will not allow me to go on a date with a man who could potentially be a serial rapist, or worse, really boring. So I guess to answer my earlier musing...yes, cat calls work. Cat calls work if the guy is hot and the woman's ego is so huge it actually responds to cat calls. Odds are increased if the man has also invested in some sort of luxury vehicle. You're more likely to get into Harvard Law, but cat callers can certainly still dream.
Yeah, I hate me too,