I’m trudging along the street, bleary and hung-over, wearing glasses and baggy sweats, when a car pulls up and begins honking. I can’t see who’s inside, so I wave politely in case it’s someone I know.

As I pass, the car door opens, and a middle-aged guy of the crusty sort leans out. “Where you going?”

Me: “Home.” I keep walking.

Guy: “Mmt! Grbl bzjrewbg?”

I keep walking.

Guy: “Mmt! Grbl bzjrewbg?” (insistently) “Grbl bzjrewbg?”

I turn around and walk back in case he needs directions somewhere, or is having his tongue ripped out by buzzards. Then I realize he is saying, “You got a boyfriend?”

Of course, the only logical response is, “Why, no,” and a flutter of the eyelashes. Then I get into his car, climb onto his lap, and purr in his ear about how I’ve been so lonely, waiting for a man who’s twice my age and doesn’t smell very good to take me away in his falling-apart car. Then we have sex.

Okay, so actually I said, “Yes!” and walked away at double my previous speed, wishing I’d thought to add, “And he’s seven feet tall and shoots laser beams out his nose.”

Grrr.

Every woman has stories like that. Honking, ratings of ass quality, whistles, invitations. Looking good increases the frequency; looking awful (glasses and sweats, for instance) does not necessarily decrease it. After all, under the sweats, you’ve still got all the relevant body parts.

What I want to know is, has this tactic ever worked? If so, on whom? Do guys yell out car windows on the theory that all women are hookers until proven otherwise? Does part of the Man Code (well, the Slimy/Drunk Man Code) state,”All women want to sleep with you?”

Also, has any attractive man ever tried this? (I mean, any attractive man with fewer than seven drinks in him.)

I just don’t understand the reasoning behind yelling at women on the street.

Yes, it’s nice to be told we’re hot; however, a sleazy stranger on the street isn’t the most credible source. (I didn’t believe the strange man who told me he was a close personal friend of Jim Morrison, either.)

And yes, the mating game is a complex and frustrating set of rituals, and I can understand wanting to bypass all that. But if that’s your plan, personal ads are pretty cheap, I believe, and you can lie all you want in them, whereas when you’re leaning out your car window, you are all-too visible. Also, personal ads have been known to work occasionally.

Then again, maybe the catcall method works occasionally, too. Otherwise, wouldn’t natural selection have stamped it out? Right now, on a street corner somewhere, maybe this is happening:

Man: “Hey! Hoo-wee! Shake it!”

Woman: “I thought I was already. Shall I shake it harder?”

Man: “Yes, please.”

Woman: “Okay.” (She shakes it.)

Man: “Also, nice rack.”

Woman: “Thank you. I like them too. Say, would you like to be my sexual partner?”

Man: “Yes, please.”

Woman: “Maybe later we will reproduce.”

Shoot. The more I think about it, the better this system sounds. Directness and honesty. No posturing, no awkward small talk, no fake laughter. Maybe I should have gotten that guy’s phone number.

Oh well. It’s not like I’ll never have another chance for love with a sleazy old man. The next one who honks ?