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I’ve always been a firm believer that there was a day, probably in grade 9 health class, where boys were taught the art of foreplay. What to do, where to do it, and why that particular move worked. I truthfully believe there were boys who were sick that day or skipped class and therefore have no idea what they are doing – at all. I now believe there is a similar class for women, except it doesn’t involve foreplay, it involves how to respond to cat-calling and hollering in the summer months. Ladies, ladies, ladies – giving a friendly wave to a construction worker because he thinks your ass is “sooo fine” in that “sexy red number” isn’t smart, it’s setting a precedent. And that my friends, is why I have to roll my eyes on a daily basis.

Now before I get comments on how cocky I am being, I’m not. Here’s how it goes, any woman wearing a dress in the summer will get whistles or “yo baby’s”. It’s as much a fact as Ali having horrendous roots on the Bachelorette. That’s how it goes. Now that we have that clear, we can move along.

I must have missed the class where we were all told it was ok to flirt back with these guys. One brilliant woman decided one day that this was appropriate male behaviour, let’s indulge! Whoaa hoo! Ugh, what?! No. Noooo! Now we have teeny-boppers wearing their underwear outdoors and everyone’s hooting and hollering and waving back. I miss the days of death stares when a man honked or revved his engine. Because really sir, can you please stop so I can get in and have your babies.

Whoever this woman is, and wherever she came from (she must be European) I want to have a chat with her. I now spend my lunches shuddering with my friend and co-worker Laura. And knowing me, one day I am going to turn around and let it all out on some unsuspecting guy with a hard hat on, yo.

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