YOUR COMPLIMENTS OFFEND ME, SIR!

I was in Downtown LA for meetings all day this past Friday and needed to make an 'Emergency Run' to the local Rite Aid -- with no clue that the next hour would bring some of the most intense stress and emotions experienced in weeks.

For those not intimately familiar with Southern California, you might not be aware that Downtown is currently in the process of a major redevelopment and gentrification process -- a dramatic turn of events after being known for decades as a neighborhood of filth and crime.  Granted, Skid Row and the mentally unstable homeless still exist but instead of ruling this part of town on their own they must now share the streets with the wealthy bankers or actors living in the renovated loft units that sit above brand new and four star restaurants.  The street lights are brighter, there appear to be more trees, and I feel safe parking my car on the streets of Downtown for the first time.

I was sitting in my meeting on the 15th floor of one of the high rise office buildings when I realized I needed to 'Google' the nearest Rite Aid and pay a visit.  I don't know the streets of Downtown all too well, I just knew enough to feel safe and confident visiting a local drug store in my heels and dress suited for the boardroom and a far cry from the provocative stilettos and mini-dress to undoubtedly be wandering these Downtown streets just hours later as the women poured into the bars.

I hopped in my car and drove about 6 blocks and then realized that it was rush hour which means no street parking and, of course, this drug store does not have designated parking.  I end up giving a parking attendant five bucks to watch my car and tell him I will be only ten minutes.  I walked a block and half around the corner to the drug store and in this small span of probably three minutes I heard a half dozen whistles, cat calls, and -- frankly -- creepy old men turning their heads as I walked by offering me a small fear that they might actually begin to follow me.  I must state the disclaimer that I am no 'Hollywood Looker' and this is not about having a good hair day or feeling particularly sexy.  I have a petite and somewhat athletic body and was wearing a long sleeve fitted dress with a skirt that grazed my legs maybe an inch above the knee.  I can only imagine the reactions had I been more of a Marilyn Monroe type with cleavage and flesh of long legs to offer.

As I walked into the Rite Aid that was clearly located in a neighborhood that had not yet been gentrified and instead was filled with people that looked high as a kite, mentally disturbed, and in desperate need of a shower -- I was feeling a tinge of stress and strain from the attention.  I took a place in line and a man in his 70's, holding on to his walker no less, turned to me and looked me up and down at least three times over and then stared me in the eye and said "Impressive".  I didn't even know how to respond so I just stood there and looked down at my shoes.  He then snapped at me and said, "You're supposed to say 'Thank You'.  Hmph!"  WOW.  Really?  You consider that a compliment?!

I was grateful to find my car about thirty minutes later and depart that neighborhood as quickly as I had arrived.  I was tense, upset, and in need of some alone time to unwind and process the fact that this behavior has become culturally acceptable.  I parked my car in one of the newer and nicer Downtown neighborhoods and felt a sigh of relief when the parking attendant across from my friend's building kindly came over to say hello and offer reassurance that he would keep an eye on things.  I walked across the street thinking the moment had passed and was preparing for an enjoyable start to the weekend  when an SUV filled with three men honked and whizzed by me so close that I jumped straight up.  The one in the back seat leaned out the window screaming (beware of profanity...skip down if you don't want to read) "I want to F*** You in the Ass!"

I walked into my friend's loft a moment later it took all of my will power to not burst into tears.  You consider this a compliment?  You think I am flattered?  I find this treatment of women offensive and disgusting.  It is truly tragic that we are allowing men to behave this way and we condone their comments by responding with coy eyes or simply not responding at all.  I haven't quite figured out how I plan to address this issue but perhaps we need to start a school for Manners Modeled After a Southern Gentleman.  Until then, I will be armed with pepper spray and a mean dirty look for all suitors thinking that the way to a woman's heart is by stripping her of all character and personality before delivering the compliment.