Odd

What beautiful, crisp autumnal mornings are upon us now! I was walking happily, a gay spring in my step, breathing the freshly carbonated traffic fumes, and thinking all was well with the world, when a car drove past at speed.
The passenger bellowed at me.
"You're going the wrong way – K Rd's that way."

For those uninitiated with Auckland's streets, K Rd (as it is casually referred to, Karangahape Road if addressed formally; my foreign readers might like to attempt its pronunciation), is known for little more than its preponderance of night-time prostitutes. Thus, it was clear that, far from being helpful, the bellower was actually being very rude. (One wishes to point out here that my attire - a fetching knee-length trenchcoat, and jeans – didn't merit the comment; the only skin exposed to view were my hands and face, and it's possible I had my hands in my pockets).

It was very odd. I recall another time, when I was a teenaged Miss Smith, when a bus of hooligans drove past, and one shouted out the window, to much laughter from his fellow primates, "Show us where the axe gotcha." The phrase is embedded in my head forever, as I repeated it to myself for some moments, until I fathomed what on earth was meant by it.

Men think women are hard to understand, but really! Shouting vulgar things at strangers who are minding their own business seems singularly odd. Can anyone explain?