It is summer.
Men are saying some crazy things out there to women in broad daylight:
sexual things, things that normally would not be mentioned outside
of a one-night-stand
or a marital bedroom -
This brings to mind a story I sometimes share with people I know well, and I feel that most of my readers have been around long enough to be considered friends.
It's a tale of cat-calling redemption.
There are two protagonists and a handful of antagonists but one far more odious that the rest.
In this true story I swear;
Stop reading here if you wish to think me a lady-like lady.
For those who are left, our tale begins (and ends) in the fair hamlet of Pittsburgh PA, the South Side to be specific, home to scads of bars and alleyways in which to urinate.
My sister and I were walking back to our car from maybe the Beehive Coffee Shop? Truthfully, I cannot remember because what happened next eclipsed those kinds of mundane details.
As we amble in our sundresses through the humid evening,
a gigantic black Dodge Ram on lifts drives past and the catcalling begins.
Again, mundane and not very memorable.
Here's where it gets interesting:
because my sister and I do not respond to the language of love being forced upon us from 4 feet up, we hear the driver utter this gem,
"You lick that pussy, bitch!!",
positively dripping with misogynistic contempt
Because of course, if a woman doesn't take the bait she surely must be a lesbian.
Julie and I did what most women would do:
we kept walking and seethed quietly to ourselves,
boiling with concealed rage that such words were spoken
yelled by a man we don't know from Adam.
And we're sisters!!!!
We got in the car, sullen and pissed
and drove to the intersection
and the traffic light there
when what did we see but our verbal assailant,
getting out of his sweet-ass chariot to hit up a bar
and get even more belligerent, if possible.
He had just stepped down from his truck
when the light went green and my sister
turned to me
*my sister who was too shy as a kid to order things at the drugstore
and so she would ask me to -
with a nickname like "Gravel Gurty" it was apparent from a young age that I would be mouthy*
My big sister, my hero of heros...
Her eyes were so wide,
her expression so pained and hopeful that I knew I had to give this my very best
my very loudest voice
So I heaved myself halfway out of the car window
with all the might in my strong 21-year-old arms
and grabbed a massive lungfull of air,
verbally bull-horning the paint-peeling
"Fuck you, you motherfucking redneck asshole!!"
delivered soooooooooooooooooo sllllooooowwwwwwwwlllllly and at a volume that can only be described as
pinging off of brick buildings
six stories tall
and turning heads for four blocks easy
up and down Carson
but the head I was aiming for turned beautifully...
In slow motion even, yesssss!!!!!
His mullet, curly and shoulder-length
brown as a shiny turd
swung to one side like a coarse wave over
one long faded black t-shirt and terrible non-ironic-acid-wash jeans
and his lips
shimmied left and right with the force of his neck snap
like moist pink jello jigglers
eyes bugged out
as in old-timey cartoons when a pretty dame walked by
but this time
it was his pride
thrust to the wind
and caught in the hair of a blonde shit-talker
with a serious ax to grind.
My sister burned rubber in her left turn and we sped home,
and mouths open with shock
until we fell to laughter so raucous
it still hasn't stopped all these 12 or so years later.
I often wonder if he still talked to women that way
after such a publicly returned volley of disrespect...
I consider myself lucky enough to never know.
Thus concludes our tale
of summer-time misadventures
I would love love love to hear yours!!!