The other day I had a little sneak peek into the world of cougars – no, it wasn’t an episode of Nature, it was the other much more dangerous kind of cougar. At this point I feel obligated to point out that while I have no issues with ladies dating much younger men, it isn’t what I’m looking for personally. Let’s just say that I’m just not that into babysitting.
My introduction into the cougar scene began with a routine shopping trip. I walked into the store and was greeted by the clerk who was either a freshman in collage or 12, I wasn’t quite sure. Yeah, that would make him old enough to be my much younger cousin or something. Anyway, he was able to find the first item on my list, but was a little stumped trying to find the exercise bands I needed. At this point, he volunteered to track some down that he had at home. Hmm, awkward. . .Before he could volunteer contact info I sputtered out thanks and hastily confessed that I had something at home that might work as a substitute, paid my bill and headed out.
Now some may argue that I was a bit bedraggled and it may have actually have been pity on his part, but choose to believe that I was being hit on. Some of you may call that denial; I call it my cougar moment.
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