By R. CHASE
I have a friend named A.J. who, despite his impoverished state, would put on a sport coat and go to Jeff Rubyâ€™s on Saturday night.
â€œI sit here like bait,â€ he said, quietly scraping dried mustard off his lapel, â€œand I wait for them to pounce.â€
He was referring to â€œThe Cougarâ€.
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. Thereâ€™s even a TV show called â€œCougar-Townâ€.
I needed a Cougar of my own.
Hunting the Cougar demands subtlety, strategy and a willingness to acquiesce to being hunted. You canâ€™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 wasnâ€™t going to be easy. Iâ€™m a bit north of 40, but I have a youthful appearance, so I figured Iâ€™d be able to pass for a decade younger. Cougars arenâ€™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 Svenâ€™s annual July party. Iâ€™d started drinking early and she got there late, and so found me in a â€œpliableâ€ 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 didnâ€™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 canâ€™t), youâ€™d still find yourself wondering exactly when the point of satiation occurs (but youâ€™ll never actually achieve it).
Hoping to be ravished again, I made plans with her on Saturday. She said that she wanted to â€œride bikes during the day, cook dinner, and find a small jazz music venue.â€
I didnâ€™t get any input on the matter.
The Cougar calls the shots. She decides what youâ€™ll do, where youâ€™ll go, what youâ€™ll eat. And Cougars donâ€™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 donâ€™t play by her rules, sheâ€™ll move on in a heartbeat. Sheâ€™s far past romantic sentiment. Thatâ€™s a younger womanâ€™s game.
The Cougar doesnâ€™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 couldnâ€™t say I had many regrets about the situation.
Sophistication, financial stability, sexual maturity, and an interest in things outside the Kardashianâ€™s taste in footwear are all essential parts of the Cougarâ€™s charm.
Stalking the Cougar was a wildly fun experience. It was a liberating feeling to relinquish control and become the â€œhuntedâ€ for a while. Every bachelor should allow himself the experience, at least one time, of becoming prey.
Just donâ€™t get devoured in the process.
Câ€™est La Vie.
â€œR. Chase is a local writer and surveyor of single life on the Bourbon Trail. Follow him on twitter at @_Rchase.â€