Any catcall, whether it be a, “Hey, Sexy” or a more creative, “Oooh, Mommy” will irritate me. I mean really, where do you think shouting at me from the other side of the street will get you? It’s not going to get you in my bed. I hate to be the bearer of bad news here, but the truth is that it’s not going to get you anywhere near me. So when I hear your holler at me followed by the suggestion that I should smile, it makes me so angry that I could shriek...and then stab this phrase in the face repeatedly.
Who are you, random guy on the street yelling at me to flash a smile? Last time I checked, you certainly weren't my boss and oh, that’s right We've. Never. Met. I’m sorry that I don’t fulfill your requirements for girls that you yell at on the street, but I didn’t know they have to be pretty and they should definitely have some goofy grin plastered onto their faces, too. This request is outrageous! How do you know I even have anything to smile about today? Maybe my dog just died. Maybe my goldfish ran away. Maybe I’m just plain old cranky.
Get it? Sorry your toothy grin and nasty remarks don’t make me giggle and coo and that my smilelessness might have been your own personal bonerkiller, but you’re just going to have to accept that, Creep on the Street, and stop yelling stupid things at innocent girls like me.