Last Friday night I was with some of the crew at our local watering hole, falling into the normal pile of shit I am at the end of the day; whiskey in hand and surrounded by my good people. We do our usual thing, share stories, buy each other drinks, grab a bite to eat, whatever… The night goes on, one whiskey, two and so on… Eventually, I get up for a pit stop and notice a couple of very nice-looking, blonde “cougars” (if you will) sitting alone at the bar. Now any guy my age is stoked on cougars, but very few will go up and start shooting the shit with them. Personally, I have no problem either making a couple of middle aged women smile by flattering them and walking away; or charm them and then take them home to be used as a piece of meat. Either way I’m good.
On my way back from the bathroom I noticed that one of the guys had tried to spark a convo with them, so I snuck up behind him and jumped right in, figuring out who is married i.e. “wingwoman,” and who is the cougar on the prowl. After getting both their names, ordering a drink and starting a conversation, I could tell the one without the ring was kinda feeling me. We continued the small talk – most of it was flattering and hitting on the married one knowing she can’t hit back, it is quite the fun game to play, especially in front of the other. The drinks go on, and me and the single woman are dropping looks at each other, this and that, the usual… Now when it comes to older women, once they lock on to what they want, it takes quite a bit of will power to fight them off, it’s sorta like dangling a huge fresh steak in front of a lioness and expect her to just look at it, that lioness is gunna eat, ya feel me?
Anyway, I dangled my meat (!) to see if she was into it, and sure enough she seemed to be looking at me like a juicy steak. She finally gets up to go to the bathroom and stares at me for the entire time on her way there. Being the drunk and high retard that I am, I don’t pick up on her vibe at first. She comes back and whispers in my ear that I was supposed to follow her. Not more than a half a second pass before I stand up and walk straight to the bathroom with her right behind me…
We’re in LA right? – so I’m not surprised that once in the stall the first thing she asks me is if I have any blow… Now, I’m no drug addict but I’m down for some fun if the occasion (read: cougar) calls for it. But I’m NEVER walking around with a casual bag of cocaine in my pocket ya know? Luckily, one or some of my friends are and so I returned to the homies to procure some drugs, and somehow I did. Headed back to the bathroom to have a lil fun with my new predatory cat, the scene kinda reminded me of the tiger locked up in the bathroom in The Hangover.
When I walked in there I may as well have been walking into a lion cage at the zoo. After a few disturbing knocks on the bathroom door, we decide to take the party elsewhere. We catch a cab back to my building where we meet up with some of the neighbors for a beer and some of the drug I prefer: the devil’s lettuce, that’s right, good ole mary jane.
In fact, let’s pause for a second: imagine if you can Rick James’ Mary Jane playing in the background…
alright, where was I…?
Right, so we finally get back to my place where she wastes no time and starts hanging upside down in one of those inversion tables that help your back. A rush of blood to the head. Things start getting fucking crazy and we fast foward to every man’s favorite sight in the world: a woman (or two) in your bed, panting for air, sweating, and too tired to move from the position you left her (or them) in, usually ass in the air face down in the pillow, or collapsed on top of each other. I can’t remember a piece of art that ever moved me like that sight consistently moves me.
She finally gets herself together and tells me she’s going to take off. She asks me to call her a cab which I do, no problem: 1-800-300-5007. The cabby gets there in two minutes and I walk her down to the street like every good gentleman should. She turns to me to say goodbye and spills it…”I’m sooo sorry what was your name again!?” she asks me, embarrassed. I burst out in laughter and just say “it really doesn’t matter at this point. does it?! you should just go, it’s more fun that way.” She persists in knowing my name, so I recall the latest season on East Bound and Down and throw out the name Steve (you know what I’m talking about if you’re a fan and if not, you’re fucking out)… Knowing that’s not my real name, she just smiles and kisses me goodbye, and as she walks away I throw her a “bye Jane” as I had actually remembered her name! “It was a pleasure!”
So I turned around, went back to my spot without a phone number, email, no info – nothing; smoked a joint and enjoyed running through what just happened in my head.
Cougars, god bless you.
(Hollywood, CA 2011)
(Hollywood, CA 2011)
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