Average White Guy Walks Through NYC Without a Single Catcall

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What happens when the average white guy walks down busy New York City streets? Alan Smith and Robbie Jones take it upon themselves to find out.

New York City, New York – Alan Smith is the perfect example of the average white guy. At thirty three years old, he’s around one hundred eighty pounds, stands just under six feet tall, and loves the Yankees, the Knicks, and the Giants. He enjoys pizza, watches The Walking Dead, and prefers Reebok over Nike. He makes sure to hit the gym a couple of times a week, keeps his beard trimmed, and earns a decent living as a food and entertainment blogger.

As an experiment, Smith recently donned a pair of Levi’s, a comfortable t-shirt, and a pair of sneakers, then took a walk through the busy streets of New York City to see just how many women would objectify him in some way. You know, catcalls, unsolicited compliments, or interested looks.

The results of his twenty-minute test?

“I was shocked,” Smith said. “Shocked. It wasn’t what I expected at all.”

Despite the experimental journey being taken during peak pedestrian hours, and happening upon nearly nine hundred women along his path, not a single woman patted his backside, whistled at him from across the street, or complimented him on his abs. In fact, Smith’s video recording of the long walk, taken by childhood friend Robbie Jones, was so boring the pair decided not to upload it to YouTube.

“Seriously,” Robbie chuckled, “we wouldn’t just get negative reviews for it, we’d get negative hits.”

The pair approached a few of the women Jones recorded on the video, including construction worker Jessie Spiegel. Spiegel, who supervises a crew of a dozen hard hat-wearing men and women, claimed she didn’t recall Smith passing by. Another woman who identified herself only as Norma said she saw him and thought about offering a friendly hello.

“He was smiling,” she added. “That’s not something you see every day in downtown N.Y.C., you know?”

Frustrated with their results, Smith and Jones decided to change the experiment up a bit. A week later, Alan walked the same path, only this time he wore hot pants, a halter top, and a pair of heels. After watching a number of runway videos online, he perfected his sashay. Still, zero female objectification.

“Oh, he got some uncomfortable looks,” Jones said. “And some dude named Franklin offered to, uh…”

Jones trailed off, but after a few awkward moments, Smith continued. “He offered to be my representative. For, ah…”

Smith trailed off, but after a few awkward moments, Jones continued. “Deviant activities,” he said. “We’ll leave it at that.”

As a final step in the test, the pair waited a week and tried once more. This time, Smith donned an Armani suit and, instead of walking, drove a rented Porsche convertible along the same route. What came of stage three of the experiment?

“There were a lot of looks and even a few comments,” Alan admitted. “But it was all about the Porsche.”

The upshot of their investigation?

“Nobody gives an average white guy a second glance, even a sharp-dressed one,” said Smith. “But everyone likes a sleek sports car.”

Simon Hawk
Chief Diversionist

Simon Hawk is a thinker, writer, satirist, and full-time oddball. As Chief Diversionist of Knozzle, his job is to write, baby, write with the intention of making his audience think and laugh. Or at least chuckle.


When not hunched over his computer, he spends his time on a balcony overlooking the Arkansas River (pronounced ar-KAN-zas, people!) playing Death Metal’s Greatest Hits on his diamond-studded kazoo. He sometimes pretends to know the meaning of life, but mostly just knows the meaning of obscure words like “sesquipedalian”.


Simon Hawk

Simon Hawk is a thinker, writer, satirist, and full-time oddball. As Chief Diversionist of Knozzle, his job is to write, baby, write with the intention of making his audience think and laugh. Or at least chuckle.

When not hunched over his computer, he spends his time on a balcony overlooking the Arkansas River (pronounced ar-KAN-zas, people!) playing Death Metal’s Greatest Hits on his diamond-studded kazoo. He sometimes pretends to know the meaning of life, but mostly just knows the meaning of obscure words like “sesquipedalian”.