A warm August Friday night is always a perfect night to go out, which is exactly what I decided to this this precise Friday. Seeing that my friend and I both had no plans, we decided to explore the neighborhood of Old City in Philadelphia. Both of us haven't been to the bars and clubs in Old City in at least a couple of years so we were both looking forward to dressing up really cute and exploring one of the old stomping grounds after what felt like ages of being away.
I was so excited to wear my dress. Low plunge neck line without revealing too much, it was the perfect choice paired up with a pair of leopard print 1" heels. ( I am tall enough already so I never wear stilettos and resort to shorter heels or even cute flats) My friend's dress was adorable as well -light with a large flower print all over, it was maybe too peasanty for my taste but totally her style and definitely flattering in all the right places.
So we park the car in the parking garage and step out onto the street. Boy, have things changed since the last time I ventured out into Old City's party area.
Almost immediately we pass a group of rowdy men and the harassment begins.
"Nice dress!" one remarks to me, as he passes by.
"Thanks," I say. The men laugh in response and I give my friend a confused look as we continue walking.
A few steps later, another group of men come across our path.
"You look Brazilian!" One of the guys addresses my friend and she responds with a "Thank you" as I did just a few moments earlier.
"Who said it was a compliment?" the guys yells back at her from a few feet away and his buddies road with laughter. Again, my friend and I exchange confused looks and keep on walking.
I suddenly began to feel like I stepped out in a neighborhood where manners and politeness were unheard of. Douchebags, we were surrounded by douchebags as far as our eyes could see.
All throughout the night...
"Those bitches are fine!"
"Look at you with your pink lipstick."
"Yo, mama, come here!"
And the array of pathetic attempts at getting our attention through a borderline rude and questionable parade of comments continued throughout the night. I tried to ignore crap from these greasy, boorish, trollish excuses for men but no amount of alcohol seemed to be able to wash away the shady surroundings that I couldn't seem to escape.
Don't like my dress or my lipstick? Too drunk to come up with a real compliment? Vocabulary too limited or memory too faulty to remember simple but lovely phrases like "Hey girl, you look pretty"? Then perhaps it is best to get a crash course in basic etiquette before escaping the Bronx Zoo and hitting the streets on Philadelphia at night.
Perhaps in the near future some genuis will come up with a breathalizer-type of a device that monitors the amount of creepiness a person possesses and locks them inside of the house after 11pm if the creepiness levels are off the charts. But a more likely scenario is that us girls are going to have to put up with creepy douchebags on a regular basis for as long as we choose to go out without male companions nearby.
So guys, as long as you use shitty pick-up lines, get used to an abundance of eye rolling from the female sex and going home with the only companion that can put up with your continuous bullshit without making a peep and still please you at the end of the night - your own damn hand.