Who’s That Lady

Last night as I exited work, someone whistled behind me in my office lobby. I turned around and didn’t see anyone. Then, they whistled again. The security guard at the front desk looked at the security monitors and said she didn’t see anyone.

Five minutes later, I was walking up Connecticut Avenue. The street was like a parking lot with traffic. A guy looked out the passenger window of a stopped truck and said to me “You’re beautiful”.

I said thank you and kept walking.

But I did check to see if I had some sort of sign on my back. Like a kick me sign, but only the opposite. Or if my skirt was tucked into my underwear.