The Audacity of Spokes
This weekend, I bought a new bicycle over at Phoenix Bikes, which I hear from a reliable source is D.C.’s best bike shop. The acquisition was an important one for me—I’m poor green, so I don’t drive a car. And I haven’t ridden a bike in earnest since I rocked a purple mountainy thing out of my parents’ garage in real Phoenix, Az.
I’ve been riding this little blue Ross number for a day or so now, and it’s been a shaky start. My legs are short and unaccustomed to the finer points of pedaling. Most of my head is obscured beneath a ridiculously oversize “skater helmet” reserved only for Tony Hawk and particularly clumsy two-year-olds. When riding, my face is plastered with a cartoonishly anxious look, revealing the sophisticated machinations of my biker’s mind. “PLEASE DO NOT DOOR ME,” reads my furrowed brow. “MY ASS HURTS,” reveal my down-turned lips.
I look, in a word, stupid.
That hasn’t stopped the District’s intrepid cat-callers from working with me a little bit. When faced with the utter unattractiveness of an awkward biker, they get creative: In my short time biking the streets, I’ve found that the accessory elicits a new and different vocabulary from the sidewalk commentator. “Damn, would I like to be that seat!” called one, from his vantage point on a neighbor’s front porch. “Girl on a girl bike! Girl on a girl bike!” another exclaimed, as I pedaled to work. “Hey! Hey hey hey hey,” called another, after rolling down his window and finding, I assume, little inspiration.
So, what else can I look forward to? Have any other lady (or dude!) bikers heard some particularly interesting bike-calls?
Photo by Salim Virji
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2:58 pm
If by “particularly interesting” you mean “amazingly offensive,” I offer what one leering slimeball stopped in a crosswalk to regale me with while I was stopped on 15th, waiting to pedal across U St.:
“Mmmm, nice legs. Nice from ridin’ that bike. Nice and hard. Don’t you like how hard your legs are from ridin’ that bike?…” etc. etc. etc.
But aside from that, on a bike or not, I’m interested to know what women think is the best way to respond to street harrassers. I’ve had mixed success with various methods and wonder what everybody else does.
3:36 pm
cultureslug,
Joe Eaton wrote an excellent cover story (”Nice Ass”) on street harassment about a year ago that details how one woman deals with this:
http://www.washingtoncitypaper.com/display.php?id=1859
After the story came out, I wrote a post about harassment on my street with a sort of tongue-in-cheek guide to navigating the different types of street harassers:
http://www.washingtoncitypaper.com/blogs/citydesk/2007/09/20/nice-ass-revisited/
A year later, I still usually ignore. What has everyone else found is the best policy?
4:29 pm
Thanks, Amanda; I actually did read and enjoy Joe Eaton’s “Nice Ass” piece last year but hadn’t seen your subsequent blog post. I’ve moved toward just ignoring almost everything, no matter what, that comes from a male stranger on the street. The more direct-action tactic (hitting them with an insult or middle finger of my own) usually resulted in the catcaller telling me I was a bitch/cunt/ugly whore in a loud voice that attracted undue attention. (They really don’t like being disrespected by the subjects of their disrespect, apparently.)
4:37 pm
Yeah, in general, I don’t respond because I’m afraid of pissing off the wrong dude. Ignoring the calls can piss them off too, though—such as with the gentleman who followed me in a car and repeatedly screamed that I was a “dyke” when I didn’t respond to his comments. Luckily, I’ve never been physically assaulted on the street (though I have been followed on foot). Maybe the bike will help keep it that way.