Wrong Turn to Cougar Town
Cougars... they know what they want
A buddy and I were out having a few drinks at a local bar. It’s normally a pretty good scene, full of HAPS or better possibilities. But even when the woman count is low, there are other things to keep us occupied. For whatever reason, the place we were gets pretty dead early on, especially mid-week, like this time. Like so many good stories, this one starts “I’m sitting there, minding my own business….” My friend and I were having our last drinks before we moved on, and that’s when she pounced. I like women to take the initiative sometimes; but if you’re a cougar and taking the initiative, you’d better look like Courtney Cox.
I could tell right away I was in for it, but I didn’t want to be rude. I had never seen this woman before, so I didn’t know who she knew (a lot of people “know the owner” at this place; but I think a lot of people say that, too). It seemed like a good idea to try to be polite and just try not to get mauled. No such luck. She must have started drinking some time around noon, because she was totally shit-faced drunk. That might have explained why she started pawing me right away. Hands all over my face and hair. C’mon, lady. I did NOT invite you to touch me in any way. When I smile and nod and then turn away from you, with my only view the overweight, hairy bartender… that should be a clue. Then, in what had to be one of the worst moves I’ve ever seen, she pinched my cheeks. In addition to being a huge invasion of my personal space it had exactly the wrong effect. I told her, “Wow. You just reminded me of my grandmother.” For some reason, this didn’t have the desired effect, either. Instead, she told me about her daughter who she came with to the bar (she was 30, according to Mom). Then she went on to explain, proudly, that she was her youngest daughter. Youngest. Meaning there were older daughters. More than one. Okay, so assume there were only 2 years between each, and there were only 3 daughters. That means she has to be at least 50 (and that’s being generous; 16 + 2 + 2 + 30). I mean, I’m flattered and all, but I don’t think so. To top it all off, she then starts telling me about her dead husband. And you know, I felt bad for her, but is this how you pick up men? Does this ever work? Actually, the best part is that my buddy backed off completely, hiding behind a tree somewhere instead of bailing me out! To be honest, it had to be pretty funny to watch, so I might have done the same thing.
The same rules apply to darts, pool, and picking someone up at a bar. A few drinks might help your game, but things can get out of control if you have too much. In any case, you still need some kind of talent and a game plan to expect success.
