Public Service Announcement

Two in one day because it needs to be said.

Men of greater New York and beyond:

Hollering at women is neither sport nor national pasttime. I get it. Today is like the third day of Spring and the ladies are out from underneath sweaters and coats. And yes, we are in our pastels and ruffles and heels, but hollering at me-- even politely gets annoying.

I couldn't get off the block without a lusty good morning from the local dope feind and a hey baby from the middle-aged owner of the speakeasy around the corner. Before I crossed the nearby thoroughfare to catch my train, an ambulance driver felt compelled to roll down his window to yell he liked my style (my favorite compliment and yes, I put in work to swag it up this morning.) I replied with a humble thank you. As I passed his vehicle, he wished me a nice day. I wished him one in return. Then he waited until I walked far enough that he was behind me to say, "oh, yes indeed I will."

It's not yet 10:30am as I type this (you know I got a no hollering before 11 rule) but surprisingly I'm not annoyed. It's Day 3 of Spring's return and I'm as excited to see the men strutting around without suit jackets so I can admire a proper "V" as the men must be to see women's shapely curves. Today and tomorrow and definitely thru the weekend, the attention from masses of menfolk will be amusing. Hell, over the next few days, I'll probably wish a few broad shouldered gentlemen in starched collared shirts some innuendo filled "hellos" or extend wishes of "oh, yes, you have a wonderful day" with a knowing look to a Mr. Snug Pants with a lovely rear. But we're all going to have to know when to stop. I mean, like milk in a refrigerator, that hollering shit gets old after about 14 days.

In two weeks, one-liners (even the good ones) will be as valued as the American dollar in a European land. So gentleman (I address you because you do most of the hollering), enjoy these first 2 weeks of Spring when the ladies bask in your attention. It's been a long winter. We like the reassurance that we still got it and you still want it. Holler respectfully, holler often, holler in the morning even. I'm flattered today and a witty line from a cutie will likely result in a number exchange. But for the love of Hova and four more Black people, shut the fuck up by May 1st.

Happy Spring!!