I was walking my golden retriever, Cassie, the other day. A new department store was being constructed in one of the outer lots of the outdoor shopping center we were walking through. It was early morning and so quiet. I love to window shop before the crowds arrive. Over the construction noise in the distance, I heard a wolf whistle as Cassie and I were passing the construction site. My first reaction was "Yeah, right " in a sarcastic voice. Then I got to thinking. They were a block away and I was wearing knit capris that hid my crinkly thighs. My sweatshirt was the fitted kind that the younger girls wear but loose enough to disguise my menopot. He couldn't see my facial wrinkles unless he had Superman vision and I color my hair to hide the gray. My boobs haven't traveled too far south. Thanks to Cassie's insistence on daily walks, I still had my bubble butt. These are the two things most guys check out anyway. Maybe I could pass for a young chick. More likely, he was a pot bellied, bald except for mullet trailing down his back, old guy that whistles at anything female. Maybe he was whistling at Cassie. She is an attractive old dog.
I had totally discounted the whistle when it happened again on the road back home. This time it was some landscape worker driving by me. Mind you, I am 51 years old and not a hot babe by any stretch of the imagination. How strange to get this reaction from guys twice in one morning.
Now this activity by men use to really tick me off when I was a young women. I was active and loved to jog and ride my bike. Wolf whistles, yells, and horn honks were not usual back then. If the guys were real obnoxious they would get the little birdie from me. Not a smart reaction, as I look back at those days. It is strange that something that in the past that would make me angry, now makes me feel good about myself. It is like being appreciated. However, I should track those guys down and give them my business card. After all, I am an optometrist and they obviously need an eye exam.
