Not to sound like a complete and utter twat, but…
I, along with the majority of the female population, receive my fair share of honks (not to be confused with any other kind of ‘onks).
Many will argue that any form of horn honking or cat-calling is sexual objectification, outright offensive and destructive to the plight for women’s equality. And I guess, I agree. Why has openly congratulating a woman for having tits been accepted as a social norm? Would I wind down my window and screech “nice dick” at a passing fella? Er, probably not… No.
But, I feel as though us ladies have developed an ability, over patriarchal centuries of misogyny and ‘knowing our place’, decades of slut-shaming and castigation, lingering feelings of inadequacy, we have mastered the art of rising above it.
Am I going to waste energy reprimanding one neanderthal in a pick-up truck or am I going to carry on walking, completely unabashed, feeling only pity and marginal disgust that this half-wit feels as though he is able to publicly acknowledge me… probably the latter.
I think, in essence, it is a question of courtesy and respect.
I am not about to “flatter” myself into believing that one man in a van (yes, they are ALWAYS men in ven) wishing me a good morning is attempting to get into my pants. On occasions like these, nine times out of ten I will return the platitude with a smile, it may even evoke a slight bounce in my step, because it is nice to be nice.
However, if you wait until the moment I have passed or am stood directly beside you to give that horn an almighty blast, or you leer sordidly out of your window, making smutty gestures whilst staring flat out at my arse – the only thing you are going to evoke is a rise in my middle finger.
And so, to summarise, if you are wishing me well on my onward journey or paying me a well timed, appropriate, non-objectifying complement, then by all means, crack on. If you are being a dickhead to impress your motley crew of buffoons then have shame, what would your mother say?