I live near a Rescue Mission and a prison bordering Chinatown. Pretty prime real estate, I know.  I mean yay for helping people with the Rescue Mission, but homeless men getting in fights a block away from me and cat calling me every day? No thank you. I also have to walk past about a million Chinese women shoving purses in my face every day on my way home from class “Prada Prada Prada? Gucci? Purse purse!” Girl, do I look like a tourist to you? I don’t want your knockoff purses, I didn’t yesterday, I don’t today, I won’t 4 years from now. So please stop.

Once I get past them, I have to walk past that line of usually 30 some homeless men waiting to get into the rescue mission, most of them ogling me like a fresh piece of pizza they have not eaten in years. I am not being self-absorbed here, this actually happens. Besides, trust me, I would not brag about old homeless men, one of them with a beard I swear to god I saw a bird fly out of one time, checking me out.  Sometimes I will even encounter the ever so lovely young chap who stops right in his tracks and says something along the lines of “wow you’re beautiful”. Bitch duhhh! I know that, I do not need you affirming this in order for me to feel good about myself. You might think it’s a compliment, but I think you should just mind your own business and get out of my way because I have a 1 pound chocolate Easter egg waiting for me in my bed that you will never be invited to.

Honestly, what makes guys think women need random men’s comments to make them feel good about themselves? I am not going to fully dive into this subject now because that would make this blog post about a billion words more than you probably care to read, plus I have oodles more to say on the subject that I will save for later blog posts.  So I’ll just get to the point about this particular cat calling incident that occurred on my walk home the other night.

On the corner right before I got to my dorm the other night, I saw three NYPD officers where I normally see homeless men either who usually cat call me as I walk past them. So I breathed a sigh of relief that I would not have to endure any comments this night since the homeless men were not there. My walk home is usually annoying enough as it is (seriously, I know tourists are in awe of all the Starbucks and trash on the streets, but let’s remember how to actually walk here people), so those comments objectifying me only infuriate me more.

Anyway, as soon as I crossed the street I heard one officer call out behind me “damn girl, how you doin?”. I kid you not. An unwanted pickup line straight from Friends‘ Joey Tribbiani , out of the mouth of an NYPD officer on duty. I have officially lost all hope in mankind. Literally, men have not been kind lately. Not all men are rude of course, but unfortunately most of the ones who interact with me on the street are.

Officers are supposed to stop street harassment, not start it. And you would think they would not want to perpetuate the whole “asshole cop” stereotype. Sadly, it only takes one male officer (in this case actually four because his fellow officers said nothing to stop him, they just laughed) to ruin my view of the whole NYPD institution. Why are these kind of people allowed on the force? How can they protect anyone when they deliberately verbally harass women?

I was so shocked at the officer’s comment that I could do nothing but keep walking. Plus it was cold and I had to pee. I know those sound like excuses and I really wish I would have said something, but I was honestly in so much shock that an officer would call out to me on the street like that. I encourage all women with a stronger bladder who have a lesser opposition to the cold to stand up to all street harassment, especially when it comes from officers of the law.