Good Will Cougar Hunting Part 1: Stalking the Stalker

Bachelor Behavior

I have a friend named A.J. who, despite his impoverished state, would put on a sport coat and go to Jeff Ruby’s on Saturday night.

“I sit here like bait,” he said, quietly scraping dried mustard off his lapel, “and I wait for them to pounce.”

He was referring to “The Cougar”.

Aptly named for their ravenous appetite and method of predation, The Cougar has become a subject of fascination for the modern bachelor.

The Cougar is not a new invention. But celebration of mature feminine sexuality in print and popular media is. The concept of a highly independent, sexual-liberal woman over 40 is now a common meme. There’s even a TV show called “Cougar-Town”.

I needed a Cougar of my own.

Hunting the Cougar demands subtlety, strategy and a willingness to acquiesce to being hunted. You can’t just go looking. You have to make yourself prey.

How did I begin? Wander into bars, drenched in Drakkar Noir with a shy, innocent look in my eye? This wasn’t going to be easy. I’m a bit north of 40, but I have a youthful appearance, so I figured I’d be able to pass for a decade younger. Cougars aren’t attracted to aging meat. They prefer it young and tender.

I found her at a business accelerator function. She had a boutique dog food business and she was looking for funding. She introduced herself, and she squeezed my hand briefly, looking me over with a predatory gleam.

When The Cougar picks up your scent, it will begin stalking you. You will know when this happens because you will have the uncomfortable sensation that you are a piece of meat.

I invited her to my neighbor Sven’s annual July party. I’d started drinking early and she got there late, and so found me in a “pliable” state of mind. There were a lot of younger, cuter girls at the party, but she cornered me on the couch and kissed me there, in front of half the guests.

The Cougar is a wily predator. She likes to mark her territory. This will be done in public, in front of other people, without shame. From that moment on, other girls will avoid you.

We went to eat dinner at Bistro 1860 a week later. I was actually thrilled to have a woman with a more sophisticated palate than jello shots, Jaegermeister and flavored vodka.

We went to my place after dinner for a glass of Pinot Noir, and despite the fact that she said she had to get home to her teacup Chihuahua, she didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave until she had ravished me so violently that the bed was literally on the other side of the room when she left.

I was too exhausted to move it back, so I was forced to sleep with incorrect Feng Shui until I regained my composure.

The Cougar, like any natural predator, has a savage sexual appetite. Even if you could keep up (and you probably can’t), you’d still find yourself wondering exactly when the point of satiation occurs (but you’ll never actually achieve it).

Hoping to be ravished again, I made plans with her on Saturday. She said that she wanted to “ride bikes during the day, cook dinner, and find a small jazz music venue.”

I didn’t get any input on the matter.

The Cougar calls the shots. She decides what you’ll do, where you’ll go, what you’ll eat. And Cougars don’t like younger competition or places that serve drinks in plastic cups, so be prepared to be surrounded by people at least twice your age.

I suddenly realized I had a conflict for our date, since it was Forecastle weekend. I called and left her a message, apologizing, and trying to re-schedule. She sent back a curt text two days later.

I never talked to her again.

The Cougar, like most predatory felines, is vain and narcissistic. If you don’t play by her rules, she’ll move on in a heartbeat. She’s far past romantic sentiment. That’s a younger woman’s game.

The Cougar doesn’t need you. She just feels like playing with you for a while.

And although I was hoping to have been played with for a little while longer, I couldn’t say I had many regrets about the situation.

Sophistication, financial stability, sexual maturity, and an interest in things outside the Kardashian’s taste in footwear are all essential parts of the Cougar’s charm.

Stalking the Cougar was a wildly fun experience. It was a liberating feeling to relinquish control and become the “hunted” for a while. Every bachelor should allow himself the experience, at least one time, of becoming prey.

Just don’t get devoured in the process.

C’est La Vie.

“R. Chase is a local writer and surveyor of single life on the Bourbon Trail. Follow him on twitter at @_Rchase.”