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I was walking down the street the other day, enjoying summer on lovely Michigan Avenue and heading to Neiman Marcus for a little retail therapy. It's the ultimate pick-me-up!

Unfortunately, as I crossed the street I noticed a bevy of construction workers having their lunch on Neiman's window sill. Besides feeling unduly deprived of the tantalizing sights from the store window, I knew that soon I was to become a piece of eye-candy myself.

Sure enough, twenty sets of eyes were on me. The crew stretched from one side of the entrance to the other-so no escape was possible. Leering and smiling as they nibbled on their sandwiches (most likely packed by their wives), the men made little attempt to hide their voyeurism. In fact, they seemed to be savoring it, right along with their bologna and mayonnaise.

“What are you doing here?” I asked of them. “Eating our lunch,” a couple replied. “But why here?” I pressed. “Because we like the scenery, you know, watching all the girls walk by.”

Ahhhh. The girls. Considering I had just been the subject of this ogling, I was only momentarily sidetracked by the use of the word “girl,” since I am well beyond even a loose interpretation of the term. In hopes of discovering the source of these girl-watchers, I pressed onward and in a language they could understand.

”So where are you boys from? Working in the neighborhood?“

“Well, yes, we�re on a new women's hospital.” Oh! So the men who are building the best in women's healthcare are making me-and every woman between the ages of 8 and 80 who walks by-sick.

“So why don't you eat your lunch over there?” I asked. “Because we wouldn't get to see the girls. And because we need to have an image in our heads for when we have sex with our wives.” Oh.

I never actually made it into Neiman's that day. I can't help but wonder how many other women feel just as intercepted by these construction workers' “harmless looking,” whether on their way to shopping, work or a simple walk around the block. The men I spoke with made a point of defending themselves by saying they never catcall and that most women seem to enjoy their leering, since they often smile. Are you kidding?

The behavior I encountered from these men is nothing new. However it is disappointing on a variety of levels-to the wives of the men; to me and many of the women walking down the street; to the contractor, hospital and union working these men; and even to good old Neiman Marcus, who allows them to sit on their window sill each and every day.

In fact, I put a call in to the store manager at Neiman's. She told me that no one has complained about the construction crew's lunchtime behavior. So on behalf of myself and every other woman out there who doesn't feel like being the fodder of lunchtime sexual imaginings-consider this an official complaint.

A flock of construction workers gawking at women may be one of the oldest clichés in the book, but step one for change is deciding not to just grin and bear it.