I’ve never really gotten the whole men-catcalling-on-the-street phenomenon. It seems like men have honed the art of ogling and hooting to a science, perfecting timing and peripheral vision so they can stop on a dime, drop whatever they’re doing and stare like hyenas eyeing the baby zebra falling behind the herd. Sure, I understand the need to leer; the laws of sexual magnetism, females attracting visually-impressible mates by exuding a hotness that sends the male brain into sensory overload. But it’s the jump from visual to verbal that leaves me baffled. Ok, so a nice looking woman walks by, causing a timed response. How do physiological increases in penile blood flow translate into comments like “Ooohh honey, come over here and shake those titties?” Then other men pick up the cues, and soon walking down the street is like navigating a Turkish bazaar, the comments flying from every angle, ranging from the banal (”Hey baby, where you goin’?”) to the creative (”You make me want to dunk my head in maple syrup”) to the truly original (”Come over here, I’ll buy you a Klondike bar and sketch your portrait with my toes”). And they aren’t exclusively from one race, creed or income bracket; I’ve seen guys in double-breasted suits, popped-collar Izods and splattered artist overalls whooping at mini-skirt-clad passersby. Testosterone knows no social barriers.

What amazes me is the sheer relentlessness. These guys never stop, never take a day off to grab a hot dog in Coney Island or work on some new tactics. Based on one’s individual chances of suffering from a delusion-causing illness, very few semi-professional leerers honestly believe that the woman will stop in her tracks, reach out a hand and say, “Yes, thank you, I’d be flattered if you would ride my juicy ass like a Texas rodeo, that sounds delightful. I think I saw a secluded spot down that dark alley over there.” But still, they soldier on.

So I’ve concluded that men as a whole must possess, on some level, a profound sense of optimism. Sure, the odds are overwhelmingly against you. Sure, you could stand on this streetcorner catcalling your entire life and not have a single woman respond with anything but her middle finger. But does that stop you? Not for a second. Every day you persevere, fight the good fight, revealing a dedication that, if applied to other aspects of life, could lead to mind-boggling success. The rest of us can only stand back and marvel at your steadfast commitment. Or just crank up the volume on our Ipods and walk by as fast as possible.