Women come from different backgrounds and varied experiences, but we all usually share one recurring rite of passage: The catcall.

Any woman who's walked past a construction site or down a city block knows of what I write. In these situations, we are eyeballed, leered at and ogled. Men wink, hoot and holler. They check us out, size us up and scrutinize.

It's such a common occurrence that every day, on millions of streets around the world, you'd think there was an auction on XX chromosomes.

My co-worker and I were discussing this very issue two weeks ago when an ambulance barreled down the street, the lights of the emergency unit flashing. Yet the ambulance driver still found the time to flash the headlights at us, as if they themselves were winking. You don't even have to look like Salma Hayek to stop traffic, though I wouldn't mind the extra help.

A wise woman I know once said, men would still holler at you even if you were wearing your house robe and chanclas.

Apparently, ladies, either we're just that sexy, or these guys would tease a feral cat if they thought they could get a rise out of it.

So readers, once again, I require your feedback: Why do men do this? Do women ever do it? And has the casual wolf whistle been the point where a relationship actually began?

To the ladies out there, I ask, what would we do if all the whistling stopped?

A man in a passing car once yelled out his window to comment on my friend's shapely hips. She remembered this story with a mix of exasperation, humor and, perhaps, a little nostalgia.

I don't belong to the school of thought that women live to be complimented. I want respect wherever I go. I don't like feeling objectified to the point of dehumanization.

But I can't say I mind the few times strangers have passed me on city sidewalks and told me I have a beautiful smile. Sure, it's an uninvited flirtation, but it's also unexpected, briefly and gratuitously uplifting.

Guilty pleasure? Probably. Better than a catcall? Definitely.

Maybe it's time to rally my girlfriends for an experiment. We'll set up shop at First Friday beside an art gallery or craft stand.

We'll kick back, eat tacos and see what it's like to comment on everything that passes by. Don't worry, boys and girls. We'll be sure to tell you how lovely you are.