No sir, you don’t get to howl at me.
Maybe he’ll think twice before howling at another frumpy forty-something on her bike… we have feelings… but more importantly, WE HAVE VOICES.
I was on my bike headed into Scituate Harbor, thinking about how it truly was one of those perfect summer evenings… cooling off but still comfortably warm, a gentle breeze rustling the seagrass in the marsh as I passed by.
Suddenly, a black SUV zoomed past, and the guy in the passenger stuck his head out of the window and made a super loud, shrill howling sound directly at me. It startled me so much that I jumped and wobbled my bike.
I recovered instantly and pedaled a little harder. I peered through the rear window of the vehicle- I noticed a pair or ponytailed passengers in the backseat, and two guys up front. Assuming they were teenagers or drunk twenty-somethings, I decided to catch up and inch up to the stop sign alongside of them- maybe make them a little uncomfortable for rudely catcalling at someone who could be their mom.
Remembering I was on an electric bike, I turned the throttle and was at the passenger window in about five seconds. To my shock, the face looking back at me was not young and dumb, but middle-aged and arrogant. He was dressed in the classic “I’m trying to look like I just got off my boat but probably don’t actually have a boat” style.
I looked at his eyes and said, “You really scared me back there. That wasn’t cool.”
Awkward embarrassment briefly flashed across his face, but then weirdly, he started to howl again. I raised my right pointer finger in the air, immediately stopping him. “Nope,” I said, in my assertive middle school teacher tone, “Not cool. That’s not ok.” I looked at the driver and then back to him, then hopped on my bike and slowly rode across the busy intersection.
There was a lot of traffic in Scituate Harbor, and I couldn’t help but notice that their car hovered about 10 feet behind me as we moved up Front Street. They were probably embarrassed and didn’t want to pass me... Good.
Women are tired of giving passes to poorly behaved grown men. It’s exhausting to deal with, and reflects poorly on the majority of men who are decent and respectful. I will do my part by raising a young man who knows better, a daughter who doesn’t stand for it, and by teaching a thousand-or-so kids to do the same. But the already-grown-ups? Ugh. THEY need to be taught too? Seriously?