Cat calls don't even work on cats.

It seems I need to lecture my brothers once again about how not to treat a lady.

I took my casual lunchtime stroll through downtown San Diego. There's usually a variety of characters milling about and today was no exception. The first man who stood out was an impeccably dressed fellow. He wore a gray suit with a purple fedora and purple crocodile skin shoes. I'll not describe his skin tone because it's irrelevant; dickheads come in all colors. Across the street from him was a fine young lady, dressed as one would expect on a warm spring day. I noticed. He noticed. I kept my inside voice inside. He let his out.

"Yo, shawty. How'd you like to come strip at my club?"

Naturally, she ignored his comment and sped up her pace.

I thought, In the entire history of mankind, has that ever worked? Has a man ever yelled anything toward a woman across the street that resulted in (and I'll widen the target here) a friendly discussion?

Nope. It doesn't happen. In fact, if she were to respond in a positive manner it would be absolutely brilliant.

"Hey there, handsome. What's that you say? You like what you see?"
"Yes, ma'am, I do."
"And what's this about a club you mentioned?"
"I am a proprietor at a gentleman's club."
"Well, blow lilac scented breezes across my baby peach. It must be my lucky day."
"It is."
"I just happen to be in the hunt for a new occupation and as luck would have it, a job falls right into my glitter-laced lap. Where, do tell, shall I apply?"
"Um, well ..."
"Say, why don't you take me to lunch and let me blow you, just to get that out of the way. Then we can talk business."

Men, I implore you: Don't volley comments across streets toward women because your service will not be returned. It doesn't matter how sincere you are or how flattering the comment is. She doesn't want to hear it shouted at her. Before you get any other cockamamie ideas, don't hold a boombox over your head playing 80s love songs either.

Here is what you may do, politely:

• Smile at her.
• Tip your cap.

These are borderline creepy, but acceptable as long as she's not a minor:

• Ask is she's familiar with the area and if she can direct you to her favorite restaurant.
• Remark to her how her loveliness just made your day.

If her reaction is positive, you may proceed with further questioning, but once she objects, beat it.

Here, I'll try a cat call on my cat, Symon.

"Yo, Symon. Get you furry little ass up here."
"Why?"
"Because I want you to."
"Insufficient reason. Back to sleep."
"Hey! Get up here now, you handsome ball of orangeness."
"Do you have food?"
"No."
*yawn*
"I am your master. Obey me."
"You should have gotten a dog, Master. Nighty night now."

See?

Manners you must teach him.

Mothers usually assume the responsibility for teaching their sons proper manners. This is an important part of child rearing, which is sadly wasted as the boy-child grows into a man-child. I fear there's a gap in the training that causes the problem. Manners are more like rollerblading than biking in that lapses cause pain.

Take, for example, the basic manner of politely saying please and thank you.

CHILD: "I want a cookie."
MOTHER: "Is that how you ask?"
CHILD: "Can I have a cookie?"
MOTHER: "I'm sure you can, but the proper question is are you allowed to have a cookie, isn't it?"
CHILD: "Fine. May I have a cookie?"
MOTHER: "What's the magic word?"
CHILD: "Abraca-fucking-dabra?"
MOTHER: "What?! Who did you hear that word from?"
CHILD: "Who or whom?"
MOTHER: "Go to your room, you little wisenheimer."

Note how that same conversation has skewed twenty years hence.

HUSBAND: "I want to have sex."
WIFE: "Is that how you ask?"
HUSBAND: "Can we have sex tonight?"
WIFE: "I'm sure we can, but I'm not sure I've been put in the proper mood."
HUSBAND: "Fine. May I pour you some pinot and give you a foot massage?"
WIFE: "What's the magic word?"
HUSBAND: "Nordstroms?"
WIFE: "Yes, but there's another word, isn't there?"
HUSBAND: "Aw, fuck it. I'll just go beat off. Thanks for nothing."

I struggled with table manners as an adolescent. I held my fork improperly, had my elbows on the table, played with my food, and kicked my little brother in the ankles when he tried to drink milk. Still, it seems I have improved.

PHIL: "These tacos are da bomb. Pass the Tapatio, Sugarbee-o."
FUTURE EX: "The what?"
PHIL: "Hot sawse."
FUTURE EX: "Your Philly accent comes out when you say sauce. Say it again, this time with the magic word and I'll gladly hand it to you."
PHIL: "Can I please have the bottle of orange, peppery goo?"
FUTURE EX: "You're no fun. Can or may?"
PHIL: "I can take you back to my place tonight, but I may not, as you are starting to annoy me."
FUTURE EX: "You're a writer. You should appreciate proper grammar and manners."
PHIL: "You're a woman. You should be making me dinner, doing the dishes, and then quietly juicing my penis."
FUTURE EX: "Asshole."
PHIL: "Please?"

Dear Philly: Why do men [fill in the blank]?

I realize it's dangerous to post such questions on Facebook and Twitter because men are stupid, psycho, stalkers. So, you can post your question anonymously as a comment on this blog post and I'll write a reply on my Facebook fan page at SuchaNiceGuy.

Post any question or observation you have about dating, relationships, and sex. Philly the Guru will rub his crystal balls, end your confusion, and ease your pain.