Somehow, in between middle school and my mid-twenties, these catcalls graduated to commands to grin. What if one of my parents had passed away the week before? What if fifteen minutes prior my shoe heel had gotten stuck in a sewer, like Jennifer Lopez’s character in The Wedding Planner? I had so many questions, all of which an outsider would never comprehend unless he cared to ask me about my day, or planned to initiate a customary conversation with an approachable, “Hi! How are you?” I still have powerful memories of construction workers catcalling female friends and me in middle school on our way to grab lunch. #SMILE FOR ME HOW TO#I just believe that it was not their prerogative to tell me how to act, especially when they knew nothing about me. Why they were so enthusiastic in their approach, I’ll never understand. Male strangers have told me to smile a handful of times in my life. I was already in an anxious state of mind as I thought, “Why is this man talking to me and why do I need to beam for him? I’m not in a damn smiling mood! I’m hungry, hot, and frustrated!” Both belonged to a much older man aimlessly sauntering towards me. But I was distracted by a random man’s voice telling me to “Smile!” I turned my head to the left and my eyes met an average set of teeth inside of a mouth, widely spread. The sun was frying my forehead and I just wanted to find my destination before I decided to give up and pitch myself back on a Greyhound bus to Philly. “Smile!” I was jolted out of focus while walking through a busy New York City cross street.
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