It’s received wisdom that women over a certain age don’t get whistled at. We’re supposed to be “relieved” that we can walk past a building site without the dusty denim-clad workers giving us the eye and following up with a whistle. Well, it may be a “relief” and it may be un-PC to admit it, but, hey, having some hunky man whistle at you is bloody good for the ego. Cyndy and I were walking across a car park earlier today and (don’t tell the hubbies), but we got wolf-whistled at. (We looked around and checked; there were no other candidates. It was definitely us). And, yes, we were both amused and – we admit it – flattered.
Have you been whistled at recently, and if so, how did it make you feel?