“Are you asking me
out, as in a date?” I was acerbated. “Because I am older than your mother.”
I might have as
well have said I had landed from the sun because no one can go there, unless
they went there at night like Africans who will do that according to Robert
Mugabe.
“You have nice
face, and eyes,” he said, undeterred. By this I knew he meant my bust and
boobs.
Up until then the word
“cougar” had never featured anywhere in my lexicon. I felt it was demeaning,
and I laughed at the term.
I am deep into my
thirties, and I am not a bachelorette because I dot a gold ring on my index
finger, and trust me I wear it proudly. Anyone would be very blind not to
notice that what glitters on my ring finger is actually gold cuffs.
He was on the
verge of a boy and man, obviously barely out of his teens owing to the freckles
on his face and lack of beards. I doubted if he had any hairs down there.
I would be out of
my darn mind to even think about it let alone date a younger man. Who doesn’t
know that those boys just want to kill two birds with one stone – get to
practice ‘bedminton’ with you while you foot the bills?
Aftermath? He
leaves after he has had enough dough to marry a younger, tighter squeeze, more
beautiful than he said you are when he wanted to dig gold from you. Old is
gold, right?
It doesn’t matter
to me that twenty- and thirty-something men can have sex more than I blink
without tiring than forty-something men, with firmer erections and less
erectile dysfunction and premature ejaculation. Making a stud of the younger
man to brag to his friends of his fragile ‘bullish’ sex is not my thing, and
obviously not a choice.
My kid is in
kindergarten, how in hell would I be paying the freckled-faced boy’s college
fees? What would his parents do?
And just for the
record, that money that I would be brandishing in the face of a boy who has
never bought a Gillette is my husband’s. I watched him sacrifice more than he
should have to make both ends meet, and when the ends met he made sure they
stayed that way. I will not just be a bitch; I will be an ingrate, stupid
bitch.
What really
appeals the old married women to college kids who can barely rise to the
occasion unless they are aided by testosterone boosters? BREAKING NEWS: Boys,
Testosterone Boosters Cause Infertility.
The cougar life may
be fulfilling, fun and exciting, and the cougar may even know the pitfalls and
navigate through them, but a satisfying relationship with hubby can give much
more sex than lusty, gold-digging, high school boys.
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