The Difference Between a Compliment and a Catcall

This hit me just the other day. I’ve always rejected the notion that women should enjoy catcalls, that it’s a healthy boost of self-esteem, that it isn’t a “real” problem. What exactly is the qualitative difference between a honk or a rude gesture and a genuine compliment? I could never really put my finger on it because I’m usually awkward at accepting unwarranted praise in the first place and thus, couldn’t remember any good examples.

  I was shopping at my local Albertson’s and bagging some fruit at the self-checkout line when the answer appeared before me. A familiar male employee (who never fails to smile and say hello) looked my way and gave a little twist on his daily greeting, “Wow. You look fabulous today.” It wasn’t creepy or malignant and so I thanked him for his kind words. It was early in the morning and I can’t remember what I was wearing, but it’s winter here in Dallas so it was probably a lot of layers.

The first thing that came to mind was that I more or less know this guy. He’s there to help me when the screen goes crazy and won’t let me scan another item until I move my hand away from the bagging area. He has never made me feel uncomfortable; he never hits on me or leers. And so, must a truly positive compliment experience have to include someone you have met before? Someone who you’ve had conversations with before, who is less than a friend but more than a stranger. Also, he was stationary, standing at his podium waiting for a “help” light to blink on. Was it a compliment because he wasn’t driving or walking past me? Is this, coupled with his conversational tone, why it didn’t have the feel of a threatening catcall?

These things are important, but I feel that there is more to the root of why I perceived this as a positive experience. He did not call me a pet name, which did not take me out of my humanity by grouping me into some ridiculous female category of “sweeties” and “honies”. Essentially, he gave me a compliment on my attire, not the way my body looked in it. Any woman could do the same without me thinking twice about it.

Finally, this event was starkly contrasted with the innumerable times I have ridden my bike in the city only to have several men ask, “Can I have a ride?” as if they were all the most original cat callers on the face of the earth.

What about you all out there in the community? Give me two of your own stories: a catcall and a compliment.