I was walking to the 125th Street station after work today and had to pass some indolent mechanics on my way. As I passed, one of them said, “Miss, you’ve got some nice legs!”
I kept walking - it’s what I always do. I would have said, “I know,” but I’ll have to walk by these guys again, and I am not conversing with the objectifiers. No sir, not on the day of Betty Friedan’s funeral! I smiled, though. I like my legs, too. I like when others like my legs.
When I didn’t reply, one of the guys said, “Dang! No ‘thank you’ or nothing.”
Ugh. “They should have thanked me,” I thought.
