Sorry, do you think you’re invisible?

Because wolf whistling is the most delusional form of ‘flattery’ I’ve had the misfortune to encounter.

We can see you. You are making a sound to deliberately get our attention, so we will…so we will what? Run over for a sexual marathon in your bulldozer? Meet you back here tomorrow so we can share your mince and cheese pie(s)? Please let us know so we can shave our legs in preparation.

On a related note, yelling things out from your sweet ride as you drive past a girl does little to impress her. Not least because we know that car belongs to your mother. Please, slow down after you yell your unintelligible flatteries, so that we can jump in that family sedan and compliment your silk boxers, your mum’s Glade car deodoriser, and the Tweety Bird seat covers.

Maybe if you’d stayed at school a bit longer you would have picked up on the nuances of social norms. On the bright side, there will always be girls handing out fliers outside Mermaids who will succumb to your ‘charm’.

I shudder to imagine the days when I am middle aged, and getting whistled at by socially retarded, self-proclaimed ‘playerz’ is genuinely flattering, not just vaguely disturbing.

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