I salute you, you irreverent little shits

For women working out on the road, I suppose it is unwritten in the job description that we have to put up with mild harassment on the job. Not from our co-workers—that’s grounds for termination—but from the civilians whom we serve.

There are the subtle ones (e.g. ask how your day is going, wonder how a pretty girl like you got a dirty job like this, casually mention your ex-wife, etc), the cocky ones (e.g. wolf whistles, cat-calls, and generally inappropriate comments [“Hey, pretty lady” being the least offensive, but still inappropriate]), and the obvious, silent stares (my face is up a few feet, guys).

But, for all the impropriety and immaturity of their actions, I must salute two young men, anonymous though they may be, out there in Snohomish County. They take the cake for most brazen and ballsy harassment; despite how offensive it was, when I think about it I can only laugh.

I stood at the city limits of Monroe, flagging traffic for the brush cutter. I’d had a few flirty comments thus far in the day (which I can never understand—I’m out there in all my reflective orange glory, wearing a hard hat, sunglasses, and about three layers of clothing. Awake since dawn, no make-up, and so wired on coffee that I'm sure I look high. I’m sure there are prettier things to look at), but none that really stood out above others.

A car rolled to a stop before me, containing two young men who (I hope it’s safe to assume) have just graduated from high school. They began whispering back and forth, gesturing (not very subtly) and glancing furtively, at me and then away. I figured I’d let them have their fun and decided not to stare them down.

I wasn’t looking, but they must have cranked up the stereo pretty loud. I thought there were speakers outside of the car—that’s how loud the music was. Apparently they were using an iPod, because they fast-forwarded the song to the chorus. They turned it on full-blast.

The song was “F*** Her Gently” by Tenacious D. The chorus starts, “I’m gonna f*** you softly,” and it goes on with various synonyms (screw/gently, ball/discreetly, etc). Here are the lyrics, but you get the idea.

Now, I was beyond offended. Moreover, I was embarrassed. And if I had had my wits about me, I would have raised a fist and cried out, “Foul woe upon ye, gentlemen! How dare ye so blithely carry on as though you have a right to my body? Thou knowest not my soul, have not captured my heart! For shame! Shame, ye beasts! May your faces burn crimson with shame!”

Alas, I did not have my wits about me. Instead, I just burst out laughing.

For one thing, I laugh when I’m feeling flustered (and boy, did I feel flustered) or embarrassed. But on the other hand, despite how obnoxious, immature, and inappropriate it was, I thought it was hysterical. I know very few people who would think of that so quickly, and even fewer who would have the huevos to actually go through with it. When I finally sent them through the work zone, they flashed these shit-eating grins and waved.

At the end of the day, it was a couple of little boys just having fun, even if it did lead to my being the object (literally) of a joke. I felt kind of lame, like thinking that it’s funny is an insult to my professed feminism, but come on. For sheer absurdity, it was a pretty funny minute-and-a-half for all involved.