Girl Fights Back Catcaller, Teaching Him an Unforgettable Lesson — Story of the Day

A casual catcall earned Patrick a date with a mysterious woman, but when he arrived at the agreed time, he discovered that the tables had been flipped—she was the one in control. Put on the spot, Patrick realized that what he had considered harmless was actually terrifying.

The street buzzed with its usual energy—cars whizzing past, people hustling about, and amidst it all, three construction workers taking a breather. James, the youngest of the trio, broke into the conversation.

"Hey, did you catch that game last night?" James' voice carried through the street noise, his eyes scanning the bustling surroundings.

"Yeah, they really messed it up in the last quarter," Luke chimed in, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "Gotta tighten up that defense."

Their banter formed the backbone of their camaraderie. Each comment was followed by chuckles and knowing nods. However, as a figure caught their eye, their laughter faded, replaced by a curious pause. The woman navigated the street with confidence, drawing the trio's attention.

The trio's laughter faded, replaced by an expectant hush as the woman approached. Patrick's gaze shifted from his friends to the approaching figure, intrigued by her confident stride amidst the bustling cityscape.

"Look at her," James nudged Patrick, a mischievous grin curling his lips. "What do you think, man?"

Patrick tore his gaze away from the woman, attempting to play it cool. "Just someone passing by," he shrugged, trying to brush it off, though his curious eyes betrayed his nonchalance.

"She ain't just another person, Pat," Luke interjected, flashing a playful smirk. "She's got some curves. You should say hello."

Patrick smirked back, playing along with their teasing banter. "You think? Doubt she'll even glance our way."

Resuming their lighthearted conversation, the trio tried to keep their focus on their usual chatter while stealing occasional glances at the approaching woman.

As the woman drew nearer, the trio exchanged glances, their banter tapering off. Luke nudged Patrick, "Hey, bet you dinner she turns around when we call her."

Patrick shook his head with a smirk, "Nah, you're on, but I doubt she'll bother."

The woman passed, and James gave a whistle, "Hey, gorgeous, looking fine today! Stunning, even!"

The woman continued as if she hadn't heard them. James kept up with the comments, which only got more vulgar as he went on. The others laughed and were encouraged to join in the fun.

Luke did a typical wolf whistle while Patrick fumbled to come up with something. All he conjured up was, "Hey, kitty, kitty, kitty."

The others laughed but joined and started making meowing sounds. Finally, the woman with her tiny skirt and dangerously high-heeled shoes slowed her pace, turning toward the trio, a confident smile etched on her face.

Their laughter stumbled slightly, but James puffed up his chest like a peacock, so Luke and Patrick followed suit as she reached them.

"Gentlemen, flattery is a kind art, but don't you think it's a bit too easy?" she asked.

"There's nothing wrong in complimenting a woman or whistling in the middle of the street, right?" James shrugged confidently.

"Yeah!" Patrick added. "We thought you looked nice and wanted to shoot our shot. You can't be angry at us for that."

Luke nodded.

She sauntered closer, her tone carrying a subtle challenge, "So, who's the artist behind the 'gorgeous' and 'kitty, kitty, kitty' compliments?"

"Ah, it was all of us," James replied with a grin.

"Ah, a collective effort," she nodded playfully. "Then I suppose I get to choose."

The trio exchanged curious glances, bemused by her response. "Choose what?" Patrick asked, eyebrows raised.

"Who I'd like to take on a date," she replied mysteriously.

The three men shared a glance, baffled but also intrigued by her audacity. "Choose one of us?" Luke asked, his curiosity piqued.

Her gaze scanned each of them, her smile growing sly. "Let's play a little game."

Luke leaned in, curiosity getting the better of him, "What kind of game?"

The woman lifted her finger, pointing it at each of them, and uttered the most salacious version of "eeny, meeny, miny, moe" they had ever heard. It shook all three of them.

Her gaze locked onto Patrick when the song ended, and she chuckled, "It looks like you're the winner, handsome. A date tonight around 7?"

Patrick blinked in surprise, "Wait, what?"

She laughed lightly, "Or are you afraid?"

James and Luke exchanged surprised looks with Patrick, who straightened up, feeling a mix of flattery and disbelief. "No, I'm not afraid."

"Good," she said, walking away with a wink, leaving the trio stunned and scratching their heads in confusion.

"What just happened?" Luke muttered, glancing at Patrick with a mischievous grin.

Patrick shrugged, still slightly dazed, "No idea."

James nudged him, "A date, man! Congratulations!"

"A date? Did she say that?" Patrick asked, disbelief lingering in his tone.

Luke slapped his back with a chuckle, "Of course she did! Lucky guy, getting a date without even asking!"

As the woman moved away, she glanced back, her eyes meeting Patrick's once more. With a playful smile, she called out, "Oh, and I'm Violet, by the way! See you at Le Secret Cafe!"

Patrick raised his hand to wave, still processing the whirlwind encounter. "Violet," he repeated to himself as Violet vanished down the street.

James and Luke exchanged amused glances, James clapping Patrick on the back, "Nice one, buddy! See, girls like that secretly love when we catcall them. The ones that complain are too into rad-feminist stuff. In reality, they all want the flattery."

Patrick chuckled, trying to downplay the unexpected turn of events, "Yeah, I guess. It was still strange, though. We'll see how it goes. I still have this feeling that she's going to bail on me."

"Nah, man. I've dated women like her," James insisted, wrapping his arm around Patrick. "She's all nice and elegant, but I bet she's tired of the men in her circle. Every once in a while, women like her want real men like us. Rough. Sharp. Buff."

Luke rolled his eyes. "That's crazy."

"It's true!"

"No, dude. That's a Billy Joel song."

"How do you explain his date then?" James challenged.

Luke shrugged. "A miracle." He looked at Patrick and grinned. "This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance. 7 p.m. sharp, man! Don't be late!"

Patrick shook his head, confused by the exchange. On the one hand, it would be nice to believe that a beautiful woman like that, who had money and taste, wanted to date a man like him. An "Uptown Girl" like his friends had joked about. But it was almost impossible.

Still, Patrick returned to his shift with a smile playing on his lips. He had a date, and despite the lingering confusion and disbelief, he wouldn't miss it for the world. His friends' banter and more salacious comments about tonight distracted him until their shift ended, and Patrick rushed home to shower and change for his encounter at the café.

As Patrick entered the softly lit ambiance of Le Secret Café, the usual chatter and clinking of glasses were conspicuously absent, leaving a hush that lingered in the air. His eyes scanned the intimate setup, finding no sign of any other guests, which struck him as somewhat peculiar. But someone distracted him.

"Good evening," the hostess greeted him, her smile warm, yet her tone tinged with an unexpected flirtatiousness. "Well, aren't you a handsome one? You're here for someone special, I presume?"

Patrick blinked, momentarily taken aback by the hostess's compliment and the quietness of the usually bustling place. He managed a polite smile, feeling a tad uncomfortable. "Uh, yes. I'm meeting someone here."

Her eyes twinkled with a playful charm. "Ah, I can't blame that girl. You're a piece of chocolate cake. I would devour you right up."

Patrick's eyes went wide. He had worked hard on his appearance, but this was the first time a woman had so explicitly and blatantly flirted with him. "I'm sorry?"

"Don't be sorry, sugar. The pretty ones like you shouldn't be sorry," the hostess continued, and her body shifted on her tiny podium, revealing the top of her chest. "If your date doesn't go too well tonight, find me."

Patrick was still reeling when Violet appeared. "Gorgeous! You're finally here! I thought you were going to bail."

He swallowed, trying to recover his equilibrium. Was there something in the air today? Did his jacket really change his appearance so much?

"No, I would never bail on this date," Patrick said and tried not to show his surprise when Violet gave him a lingering kiss on the cheek.

"Hmmm, you smell so nice," she commented, grabbing his hand and leading to the table.

"This is our table, gorgeous," Violet said and swiftly sat before he could offer to pull out her chair. "Oh, don't bother with that, babe. I'm a big woman. I'm also not looking for a gentleman."

Her words once again stumped Patrick, but he grabbed a seat and looked around. Perhaps she IS an 'Uptown Girl.'

"This place is quieter than I expected for a Friday night," Patrick mindlessly said.

Violet chuckled, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Well, I may have arranged something special. Just for us."

Patrick raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her cryptic response. "Special?"

She leaned in, her voice soft, and explained, "I wanted tonight to be more private, just you and me. So, I have the entire place reserved."

He grinned, feeling flattered and slightly surprised. "Wow, that's... unexpected. But I like it. Thank you."

"You're welcome, gorgeous," Violet replied, her smile darkening.

"I just realized," he added. "I never told you my name. I'm Patrick."

"Patrick," she repeated seductively. "I like it. But you're so far from me, gorgeous. Pull your chair closer."

Patrick's eyes widened, but he nodded and did as told. She quickly leaned over, tracing his jacket. Her touch was unexpected, but he couldn't reveal any kind of discomfort. However, the task got harder when Violet placed her nose against his neck and took a loud sniff.

She grinned, biting her lip, and leaned away. He hadn't noticed, but the waitress had arrived.

"Oh, don't stop on my account," the waitress added, her eyes sultry and hungry. "I know I wouldn't."

What? Patrick was once again confused. Another woman was acting as if he were the last man on Earth during a hungry mating season. She didn't stop looking at him. She was waiting for something.

"Patrick, gorgeous," Violet grabbed his leg. "She's waiting for your order. Or would you prefer I do it for you?"

"Wha-wait, I haven't seen the menu," he stuttered, feeling strange at the tightening of her hand on his upper thigh.

"I'll do it for you," Violet whispered and looked at the waitress, rattling several orders that included steak, salad, and an expensive-sounding wine bottle.

Patrick felt sweat running down his back at the thought of the bill.

"Sure thing," the waitress smiled kindly at Violet, but her face returned to her sultry expression. "This one needs his energy for tonight."

What?

She left without another word, but Violet had a lot to say, "Don't worry, kitty. I'm paying tonight. You just need to be your delicious self."

This isn't right. "No, Violet. I can pay. It's not a problem. I just really..." he hesitated, looking for an excuse, "...thought this was a café."

"Oh, it's just the name. It's a restaurant, bar, and everything in between. They're also very discreet, but I still wanted it for ourselves, kitty. I'm already mad that those girls have seen you. But soon, we won't have to worry about that."

"You've called me kitty twice. Please don't do that," Patrick was still uncomfortable, but the word rubbed him the wrong way.

"Ah, you're sexy when you're offended," Violet gushed and sat back, the corners of her lips lifted in humor.

"I need to use the bathroom," he muttered and stood, almost running to the restrooms.

"Hurry back, sweet cheeks!" she called.

Great. Another nickname.

As soon as Violet was out of sight, Patrick sprinted into the bathroom. He checked every stall, just in case, and quickly entered one. He sat on the toilet with his pants still on, breathing heavily. His hands reached into his pocket and clicked James' number for a video call.

"Hey, Casanova! Shouldn't you be on your date?" his friend answered teasingly. Patrick saw his friends take a swig of a beer and exhale loudly.

"No, man. I mean…uh...yes," he shuttered, holding his phone tightly. "Dude, seriously, something's not right about this whole setup."

"Not right?" James squinted. "Where are you? The bathroom?"

"Yes."

"Are you hiding from that woman?" his friend asked, and Patrick knew more mocking was coming.

"I'm not hiding," he cleared up. "But things are strange here. Violet acts like she wants to eat me up in public. But two other women here are also complimenting me. It feels like I'm surrounded by lions."

James threw his head back and chortled. "That's every man's dream. Dude, you're going to Heaven and crying about it."

"No, this is serious. This is not a normal date," Patrick insisted, visibly getting angry.

James's face got close to the screen as he sobered his laughter. "Hey, relax, Pat! What's the worst that could happen? You get a free meal and some fun?"

"I know, but it's just strange, you know?" Patrick's voice wavered with uncertainty. "They're all acting... weird. Like they're in on some joke I don't get. I'm afraid to say that it has become scary, man. It's not normal. I've looked the same way for my entire life. I'm not that attractive to women."

James let out a chuckle. "You worry too much, buddy. Enjoy the attention! You're getting a date with a beautiful woman. I would kill to be in your place."

"But you're not listening to me. What if it's not about a date?" Patrick's brows furrowed. "It's like they're playing a game, and I don't know the rules."

James pursed his lips, deep in thought. "Well, try to learn the rules. They get flirty, you get flirty. Otherwise, run away, man. But if you do, I'll tell Luke, and we'll never let you forget it." His friend laughed again.

Frustrated, Patrick clicked the call off. "Idiot," he whispered, and the door outside the stall alerted him of someone else in the bathroom. He stood from the toilet, fixed his jacket, flushed the toilet just to keep appearances, and went out.

His chest eased. It was a cleaning lady who had headphones on and didn't seem to be paying attention to him. Thank God, he thought, using the sink to clean his hand. A quick glance in the mirror told him he was paler than usual. I need to man up!

Still looking at the mirror, he noticed the cleaning lady removing her headphones. "Wow, I've never seen a man like you before. Are you alone?" she asked.

Patrick blinked, slightly taken aback by her familiarity. "Um, excuse me?" He responded cautiously, feeling an unease creep over him.

"A pretty boy like you shouldn't be alone in a place like this," the woman continued, taking a step forward, which instinctively made Patrick step back.

"I'm no-not alone. I'm on a date," he said. His stuttering was starting to grate on his nerves, but stopping was impossible. His brain knew that this entire night wasn't normal. But the cleaning lady's words were not just flirtatious. They were… almost threatening.

"A date? Well, I don't see a date here," she continued. "I could do anything to you, and no one would ever know."

"What? Listen, ma'am. I have no idea what or why you're doing this, but please stop," Patrick used his anger to stop his quaking fear. "I'm not interested in you. Alright?"

"I could make you interested," the cleaning lady continued, placing one hand on Patrick's chest. "I like your clothes, but I bet they would look much better on the floor."

Patrick recoiled and moved away from her touch and aggressiveness. "You're crazy! This whole place is crazy!" he whimpered and ran off.

He could hear the cleaning lady's awful, Disney witch-like laughter as she bellowed, "Awww, kitty. Are you running away?"

Kitty again?

Patrick reached the table with sweat dripping down his forehead. He sat but shifted uneasily, trying to explain his discomfort about the cleaning lady's behavior to Violet.

"Violet, a woman in the bathroom just came on to me. I don't understand what's happening."

Violet grinned in disbelief. "A woman followed you into the bathroom?"

"No, no. She was the cleaning lady. But she saw me when I washed my hands and started flirting with me. But it was aggressive. She said I shouldn't be alone in a place like this. Isn't that wild? This is a public restaurant, right?" Patrick scoffed and downed his entire wine glass.

"Wow, kitty," Violet teased. "You don't want to get drunk in this place, especially with all these women that want you."

"This is not funny, Violet!" His outburst drove into a coughing fit, only worsening the situation. "I was so uncomfortable. Why aren't you taking me seriously?"

"Okay, okay. You were uncomfortable. But did she threaten you?" his date wondered.

"No."

"Did she touch inappropriately?"

"She touched my chest."

"Were you offended by her touch?"

"No, it's not about the touch, although it was definitely too familiar for a stranger to do," Patrick said, his uneasiness turning to confusion.

"It sounds like she was just flirting back with a handsome man," Violet shrugged and poured him another glass of wine. "Honestly, it was a compliment. You should be pleased."

"I understand that, but it's not really about the words. It's how they made me feel," Patrick insisted, his eyes wide and manic.

"How did they make you feel?"

"Like an animal, an object…it wasn't good. I was almost… trapped," Patrick replied, looking away from her.

Violet stared at him silently for several beats before attempting to lighten the atmosphere. "Oh, it's nothing, just a little too friendly perhaps," she remarked. Patrick was still deep in thought when Violet moved her chair close. Too close. "Let's not let that ruin our date."

Her hand went back to his upper thigh and moved, squeezing its way up. "What are you doing?" he asked, more upset.

"Oh, baby. Stop worrying. This will be good for you. I'll make it good for you," Violet started, licking her lips and getting more handsy.

It should've been good. It should've been fantastic. Patrick and almost any other man would've killed for that opportunity. But he was too rattled by his encounters with all these women today. He felt… dirty, confused, and alone.

"Stop it," Patrick said, pushing her hands away. "I have to go." His words were so weak, and he needed to run away before he burst into tears in this empty cafe.

He reached the entrance of the cafe, and his hand pushed the door only to find resistance. Patrick rattled the handles to no avail, getting more desperate by the second. "Who locked this?!" he bellowed.

And another maniacal laugh made him swing and press his back to the door. It was the hostess, smiling. But she didn't look polite anymore. Her voice was lighthearted but dangerous as she said, "Where are you rushing off, hon? You didn't think we would let someone as charming as you slip away that easily."

"Let me out!" he demanded and felt even more afraid when she shook her finger. "Why are you doing this?"

"Why are you angry? Everyone wants to feel pretty," she continued, and he bolted back into the restaurant. But his eyes saw Violet speaking with the waitress, and they both turned like they were in a secret plan.

Patrick ran through a swinging doorway into the kitchen. He knew there must be another exit through there and continued. Strangely, the place was also empty, except for… Thank God!... a male cook who walked out from a storage room with a crate.

"Man," Patrick breathed, grabbing his arms. "Please, where's the exit? You gotta help me?"

"Hey, wait a minute," the cook said, putting the crate down. "Exit?"

"I need to leave this place, and you have to come with me," Patrick announced, still desperate. "The women have gone insane. We're in danger."

"I don't understand," the cook frowned. "What did they do? Should we call the police?"

"They've all been complimenting me and flirting and touching me. The woman who rented the entire place wants me to go with her," Patrick stated, not realizing that his words didn't sound like danger at all.

The cook's eyebrows went up. "I have to say, man, that this doesn't sound bad to me. Women aren't always assertive about their tastes or their sexual desires. You should be glad."

"NO!" Patrick yelled, his fist balling as he stepped back from the cook. "You don't understand. It doesn't feel like lighthearted flirting or anything. It feels predatory. I'm an animal being hunted."

The cook clicked his tongue against his lips. "You know…we're all animals in a way," he said, the tone of the room changing completely.

"What?" Patrick mumbled.

"We have desires, and when we see something pretty and attractive, we act," the cook continued.

"That's not—" Patrick stopped as he realized he was experiencing deja vu. The cook prowled toward him slowly, as the cleaning lady had. Patrick had no choice but to move back. His back hit a couple of boxes, and he realized they were now in a back hallway. Is the exit here?

"When we see a little pretty kitty alone and scared, we want to take it home," the cook added. "And you know I'm not talking about cats."

The male cook looked much stronger than Patrick, who was now corralled. But this was a man. Unlike the women out there, Patrick could fight him off if necessary. Still, he was trapped this time, and it was much scarier when the cook's words turned explicitly sexual.

"Please, man. Please, let me go," Patrick cried, no longer able to contain his tears.

"Why are you whining in here?" a female voice asked. The cook took a step back from Patrick, who saw all the women standing in the hallway with various expressions of curiosity and upper-handedness. He didn't know who had asked the question.

"What's going on?" he stuttered, quickly drying his tears.

"Oh, handsome. You shouldn't have trusted a complete stranger," Violet spoke and crossed her arms. "Who does that? Who knows what could happen?"

Patrick frowned, outraged. "Is this a game? I don't understand!"

"It's so silly. They really think they can do anything and then complain when the worst happens," the hostess added.

"They go out at night, dressed like that to attract attention and whine when they attract attention," the cleaning lady continued.

Patrick remained uneasy and helpless, but he finally understood what was happening. They had planned this situation. It was a game, just like he suspected before.

"But who could resist? Women will be women. A little indiscretion here and there is just part of being young," the waitress chimed in. "It's not the kind of thing that would ruin anyone's life or anything."

Patrick caught her drift, too. They were repeating all the phrases others used to justify when men acted like predators and worse. "I'm so sorry. Please, just let me go," he said, choking on his words.

"Are you sure? A little fun won't hurt anyone," the male cook insisted and took a tiny step that made Patrick flinch.

"That's enough," Violet said. She caught Patrick's gaze for a second too long. That moment said everything. She then signaled the hostess, who threw something at him.

His hands caught it. It was the key. They were all silent, waiting for his next move, and Patrick looked at them, feeling the tears again, and just rushed out.

Trembling, he opened the door and breathed the night's fresh air. His chest hurt with the movements, and when his breathing evened out, Patrick started jogging away from Le Secret Cafe.

At home, he bawled like a baby and went through the stages of grief. He felt angry at the women, especially Violet, for playing such a joke on him. Surely, his catcalling with James and Luke hadn't been that bad.

The anger led to sadness, which made him realize that women must feel the same way he did in that restaurant. To men, it's just fun, but to them, it's like being trapped in a game they can't understand. "It's unfair," he whispered into his pillow before falling asleep.

In the morning, Patrick was on the final step of grief: acceptance. It happened for a reason. Violet wanted him to feel like all women do. She probably paid the staff to follow along. He understood now, and the idea of catcalling anyone ever again was repelling.

"That's what she wanted," he guessed.

But Patrick knew he couldn't explain what happened to his friends. They wouldn't understand, and their mocking wouldn't stop. So, as he got dressed for another day of work, he promised not to say much.

We had some fun. We'll never see each other again. That's it. That's what happened.

Putting his boats on, Patrick went on to move on with his life.

He entered the construction site with an air of reservation, trying to act normal. Luke and James were already there, but their shift wouldn't begin for a few minutes. Patrick shifted his weight before they could spot him and pretended to walk tall. James smiled mockingly, and Luke looked excited to ask him about his date.

"Alright, Pat, spill the beans. How'd it go with the lady last night?" James wondered. "Did you chicken out?"

"Chicken out?" Luke asked.

"He called me from the can, scared that the woman wanted to sleep with him," James clarified. "So, how was it?"

Patrick hesitated, his gaze shifting uncomfortably before meeting theirs. "Oh, you know, it was... fine."

Luke raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Just fine? C'mon, mate, details!"

A hesitant smile tugged at Patrick's lips as he shuffled his feet. "Well, she was... impressed. Said she'd never met someone like me before."

His friends exchanged knowing glances, sensing that Patrick was holding back something.

"You must've made quite the impression, huh?" James teased, trying to coax more out of him.

Patrick laughed nervously, attempting to cloak his discomfort with humor. "Yeah, something like that."

"Come on, dude. You're being too quiet," Luke said, slapping Patrick's arm. "Did you rock her world, or did she take the reins?"

"It was a little of both," Patrick fibbed.

"Really?" James asked, showing his disbelief. "Because it looked like you were about to cry."

Patrick became horrified when James lifted his phone and showed him a video. It was security footage of the back hallway of the restaurant. He saw himself backing away from the cook and being corralled by the other women. The video ended with him running away as the women laughed behind him.

"Where did you get that?" he whispered, putting his face in his hands.

"It came from a random number last night," James chuckled. "What happened here, man? You looked terrible."

"Did the cook say something?" Luke wondered. His fixed grin was merely expectant, not mocking like James. As the youngest, James was the most immature and brutal. Luke was closer in age to Patrick, but Patrick was older. He should've called him instead last night.

Violet must have sensed that and chosen him for that reason. I wonder if James would've reacted differently, he thought silently and released a huge breath.

"Last night… wasn't a real date, alright?" Patrick confessed. "That woman didn't want to date me for real or have anything to do with me. She wanted to get back at me. Or us, but I'm the one that took the fall."

"Get back how?" James asked, frowning.

"They treated me like a piece of meat last night, not a person," Patrick explained. "It felt horrible. Their words were supposed to be perfectly nice, the dream of any man. But it wasn't cool or fun. I was so uncomfortable and confused. It didn't help that they kept calling me 'kitty.'"

"Man, you sound like a wimp," James scoffed.

Luke touched the youngest one's shoulder but focused on Patrick. "So, they played a joke on you?"

"Yeah, like a game where they repeated everything women have been told before. They catcalled me, cornered me in the bathroom, locked the door on me, and said they wouldn't let someone like me go just like that," Patrick expressed, swallowing.

"Honestly, it still sounds like a dream," James quipped, but Luke shushed him.

"I know. If I had heard it from anyone else, I would've said the same," Patrick nodded. "But I was petrified, which only got worse when the cook cornered into the back hallway. I didn't know where the exit was, and while I was somewhat confident I could escape from the women, this guy was huge."

"It was a lesson," Luke inferred.

"Yeah. That's what I discovered after the women appeared behind that dude," he replied, crossing his arms. "They mocked me some more, said more awful stuff, and finally, Violet made them let me go. The others laughed, but her face was blank. Not angry. Not prideful. Just blank. Like I deserved it."

Luke sighed, scratching his head. "Maybe we do deserve a wake-up call like that. I don't think we should catcall anyone again."

"What? No! What are you two talking about? I think Pat is exaggerating," James countered. "Catcalling is harmless fun. It's almost tradition. What? We can't look at women anymore?"

"It's not about looking at women, James," Patrick shook his head. "The point is that it may be fun for us, but women don't feel that way. They're not even annoyed. Women are scared."

"Gentlemen," a gruff male voice interrupted their introspection into the harsh lesson Patrick had learned. It was their boss, Mr. Capoletti. "Before you start work today, I wanted to introduce someone important. She's the building owner and will be surveying some of the work we've already finished."

The three men turned expectantly, and their jaws dropped collectively at the sight of Violet walking behind their boss. "Guys, this is Miss Alexandria," Mr. Capoletti introduced.

Violet gave them a tight smile. "Good morning, gentlemen. But I'm afraid, Mr. Capoletti, that I've already been introduced."

"How?" the boss wondered, confused.

"I met them yesterday," Violet continued. "Then, I saw Patrick last night."

Mr. Capoletti looked at his worker with a huge frown.

"Miss Alexander," Patrick breathed, removing his hard hat and staring at the floor. "I want to apologize for what happened yesterday."

Luke echoed his words, but James stayed quiet.

"What happened yesterday?" their boss asked with a dangerous inflection, but no one answered because Violet stepped toward the men.

"You understand how helpless women feel in that situation? Even if you think you're being nice," Violet wondered.

"Yes," Patrick nodded. "I deeply regret it, and I've learned my lesson very clearly." He squirmed as his friends shifted.

"Catcalling and objectifying women, even if you believe they shouldn't feel threatened, is never okay," she continued, but her gaze had moved to James and Luke. "You two didn't get to learn the same lesson, but I hope that Patrick's words are more than enough to stop you from harassing a woman in the future."

"Harassing?!" Mr. Capoletti repeated, getting more upset.

"Yes, ma'am," Luke responded. "It will never happen again."

James didn't look at Violet, but she coughed until Luke nudged him. "Yes. I understand," James mumbled.

"That wasn't convincing. Maybe you need a new lesson. I can arrange that," Violet added, her words resonating with menace.

"No. No. Please," James said, putting his hands up. "I'm sorry. It will never happen. Ever. Ever. Ever."

"Good," Violet smiled genuinely.

The boss intervened again. "Miss Alexander. I wasn't aware of any strange situation. Allow me to apologize as well. These three will be dealt with."

"Oh, no, Mr. Capoletti. I have already dealt with them. They've learned. Case closed. I want them to continue working on my building so I can keep watch during their breaks," Violet said, walking back the way she came. "Now, come show me this building."

"Wait," Patrick called her. "Violet, I would love a chance to redeem myself. Can I please take you out for real this time?"

The room fell silent, surprised by Patrick's request. Mr. Capoletti's face was red as an apple. "Are you insane, boy?!"

Violet laughed after a few seconds, but it wasn't the witchy kind Patrick heard last night. It was natural and beautiful. "I'll take a rain check. Thanks, though." With a gentle smile, she continued into the construction site.

Mr. Capoletti debated whether to scream and fire them or follow the owner. Ultimately, he went with her, and the three construction workers sighed, deflating.

"She is scary," James commented, shocked by the realization.

"Definitely," Luke said. "I'm sorry we laughed at you for a second, Pat. I wouldn't have survived facing her."

"I told you. It was crazy," Patrick said, feeling vindicated. "But I think I needed it."

"Don't you go falling for the Uptown Girl," Luke warned. "You never had a shot."

"I know," Patrick chuckled at last. His chest felt light, and breathing was easy now that he had apologized. He started his shift, avoiding any dirty looks from the boss. It was a tough day, but he felt liberated from guilt and regret.

And he whistled Bill Joel songs the entire shift.

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