A study of catcalls
Understanding the dynamics behind the mind of these intellectuals
Last week I woke up, got dressed, cried a little (on the inside), and left for my classes at the University.
8:45 am. The time of the day, which in my dictionary is spelled as 'The crack of the freaking dawn’. I was trudging along to the society’s entrance when a car passes by with a group of well cultured (I guess) and well entitled(obvs) men. Some might call them hooligans, but no tags.
I hear one of them call out (and I kid you not) 'Where you go?’, followed by another gent’s somewhat strange 'Woohoooooo’.
My first instinct was to correct the grammar. But the gentlemen had sped off by then. Me go where, no stay to know? That be sad.
The second was to walk like nothing happened. Which, you know, women are adept at doing anyway.
What drew my attention, however, was the reaction of another resident of the block. Grey hair, well dressed, going for his morning walk/jog/that weird laughing exercise some people insist on doing.
Now this guy was shocked. And I mean shocked with a capital S.
He looks at me, looks at the speeding car. Looks back at me. And gives a nod that is at the same time apologetic and disgusted at the behavior he just witnessed.
Contrast to his expression are the expressions of the two other women on the same road. Didn’t even acknowledge the wooohooing men’s existence at all.
This brought up an interesting observation. When things like this happen, men become the most shocked creatures on earth. Their looks even trump that of the eternally shocked Tarsier, which fyi is this cutie right here:
You almost feel sad for the well meaning, albeit shocked (why though?), men. They are good human beings, and naturally can’t process the Woohoo group’s actions as a part of the society they live in. Which is strangely ignorant, but again, no tags.
When you come to think of it, the Woohooo group (Yes I’m going to use this term throughout this article. Its fun and makes my dead soul giggle a bit, thank you very much), does represent a major chunk of the society. They come in different forms of course, but the essence, the entitlement remains uniform throughout. I’ll list the 3 major categories off the top of my head:
1. The starer (AKA Imma X-ray the shit outta you)
These fascinating creatures are the most common of the lot. You’ll find them everywhere: the roads, your workplace, public transports, the roads, your university/school, the roads, heaven, hell, and did I mention the world? Because yes, they are freaking everywhere.
Once while deboarding from a bus, I noticed a similar starer-of-the-souls staring at my (hopefully) soul. Nbd, I kept my eyes forward and got down at my stop. Now this guy actually opened his window and pulled an almost The Exorcist stunt. You know where the kid does a 180 with her head? Yep. Just tilt it a bit and you have our guy.
The how and why remain unanswered, but that guy had some flexibility I tell you.
2. The conversationalist (Hey, miss. Hi. Hey, I’m talking to you ma’am)
Now these freak the hell out of me. As a generation, we have grown up socially awkward, to the point where even the most mundane of conversations require us to prep up in advance.
In saunter these Hey missys. No sir. I do not wish to and will not stop to talk. I once said “No thank you, I do not want that” (what didn’t I want? I got no clue) and crossed the road *in between moving traffic* when a guy decided to do the old ‘excuse me, can I have a minute?’ routine.
So you see, a woman would prefer to fucking run into onwards traffic than stand and make small talk to a stranger. If that isn’t enough of an idea, I don’t know what will be.
3. The eternally enduring and ever charming Wohooo-ers, on their choice of vehicles
The Woohoo group I encountered is a part of the (I assume) cult of Woohoo-ers whose head must be driving around in tanks, woohooing at women through loudspeakers mounted on gun turrets.
Gun turrets are the weapon mounts on a tank, you’re welcome.
These dude-bros prefer traveling in groups, because as we all know, demons strengthen with numbers.
Their plan of action is rather simple. Spot a woman, any woman, has to be on the road or near enough to witness them (this was a Mad Max: Fury Road reference and if you haven’t watched that movie as yet, what are you doing with your life??).
Now speed your vehicle till you come level to the woman. Choose a favorite pick up line of yours which is surely going to make her run and come sit beside you while you ride into the sunset, or at least makes her give you all her money and valuables out of sheer respect for your creativity and effort.
Watch as she grimaces, or simply ignores your existence and walks away. (And no, she isn’t putting her hand in her bag to throw a wad of cash at you, its her pepper spray she has a hold of right now). Laugh and add a Woohoo for effect, so that she doesn’t know your fragile ego was hurt by these regular bouts of ignorance.
As I come to the end of my list, I only have two questions:
Do these guys really think that catcalling/staring will one day impress a woman enough and make her come running hither? Is it possible that in some strangely warped sense, this is how they are trying to feel included and noticed?
Also,
I need to have what the Woohoo guy is having. I don’t get up-up in the real sense till 12 noon, even if I reach my classes at 9:30 AM. How the hell did that guy have that level of energy at dawn?
Till I get these answers, I’ll keep venturing out in the streets, being womanly, and doing womanly things like existing. To the Tarsier-like-expression males, chill out, this happens more often than you might like to know.
To my fellow women, Woohoo. Yah? No? Hey miss, I’m talking to ya. Lol, uptight bitch amirite guys? *Dudebros high-five* *God himself descends and ushers the dudebros into heaven for being the fine specimen that they are, the peak result of evolution, all bundled in a group*
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