On the road today, I stopped in a midwest town to fill my tank.
After emptying my, ahem, “tank” in the store, I was walking back to my car when I got what I’m sure makes every woman’s heart go pitter patter with joy: a wolf whistle.
Really?
My back to the offender — big pickup with a few buddies is my assumption though I didn’t turn to look — I rolled my eyes and continued walking.
So he tries again louder, faltering just a hitch on the opening note.
It at least garnered him a snicker once I got into my car. But I knew better than to look back. I was ready to let it go but damn if it didn’t get under my skin.
I tweeted out “Yeah buddy, whistle again louder, because the problem the first time was that I didn’t hear you.”
The more I think about it, the more it bothers me. I just don’t understand.
I had this whole post in the works about being open, belonging and other nice fluffy feelings. But apparently my theme for the week is the pickup game and so I’m rolling with it. Stay tuned to the end for your chance to win some payola at uncouth boys’ expense.
Oh and if you missed my guest post on my friend Gutsy Geek’s most excellent site, please check it out and give a girl some feedback.
What the hell is up with a wolf whistle?
Seriously, I want to know.
