Don't mean to brag, but I just happen to be quoted AGAIN in the NY Post. I'm becoming something of a subject matter expert 'round these parts, no?
No, probably not. But still.
Pick up a copy of the NY Post. Turn to pages 77-78.
Enjoy the hilarity of true stories of NYC catcalls.
Here's my li'l contribution. It's one of the reasons I love the NYC subways.
* And That's Just What They'll Tell Their Grandchildren, Too
A crowded F train pulls into the West Fourth Street stop, and a very attractive woman in a business suit steps in. Immediately, she catches the attention of a young gentleman who looks like Snoop Dogg and sounds like Busta. He cries out, "Damn, your booty fine!" and then proceeds to expound upon this thought, unleashing a veritable tidal wave of nonstop street poetry, describing every last detail of how fine her body was and just what he would do to it, given the chance. For five stops. Finally, at York Street, she casually rises, puts a finger to his lips and hushes him, slips her number into his hand and remarks, "You had me at, 'Damn, your booty fine.'" And with that, she disappears into the cool, Brooklyn night air. I like to think they're married now.
- Benari Poulten, 29, Manhattan
Thanks again, Mandy!
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