The Hobos Think I’m Hot

The last few weeks got me thinking about courtship and romance in this city. Most New Yorker ladies will admit to being harassed on the street by the colorful sidewalk dwellers, sleazy old men, and aggressive passerbys. At first, I was completely shocked. Do the men really berate nearly every woman they see walk down the street in hopes of finding a connection? And do the women really tolerate this constant sexual harassment? Surprisingly, this is just the way New York’s men start their courting approach.

See, they pant like dogs from their perches and continue to do so as they stroll down the street–not because of the unbearable heat, but because they want to lick their chops at the mere sight of all the women on the street. They gawk at women of all ages–irregardless of their attire, their complexion, their marital status, or the present hour of the day, and would continue to do so even if sexual harassment laws were enforceable on the streets, simply because this tradition of courtship is so ingrained in the culture.

Now, if you are dumb enough to react or respond to these characters with a little grin, momentary blush, cutesy giggle, or even a directed gaze that lasts too long, you have now adopted his affections. Let the games begin.He will now follow you and pursue you like an excited puppy does its owner when he/she first gets home.

If this image is not clear enough to you, image a homeless man professing his love to you at a bus stop. All you want to do is put him down easy and send him on his way. However, this is not an option. This strange relationship is what you asked for when you replied.

Needless to say, it’s a train wreck. The courtship ends with you running to your destination, out of breath and leaking sweat, and him, yelling at you from the edge of his territory trying to salvage his dignity among his “creeper” peers. If you are lucky, it will only be lovely, patronizing things; if not he will be broadcasting all of your flaws at the top of his lungs for all the world to hear. Don’t be fooled though. In spite of his tone and defensive body language, this is his last ditch attempt to get you to acknowledge him.

Do not turn around. Do not respond. And sure as hell, do not give him more eye contact, because your eyes are what got you in this mess in the first place.

Just keep your head up, elongate your stride, and shake off this encounter. You can’t help it that the street men think you’re gorgeous