I went to a bar in Bethesda a couple nights ago. It was one of those weekdays where a friend of yours convinces you to go out and, even though you don’t intend for it to happen, you wind up getting faded and wondering how your self-promise to have only one drink turns into five, including two Long Islands*.
There were a lot of things to be pissed off about in the bar that night – The shitty alternative music blasting over speakers way too loud even for an Irish bar, the fat white chicks everywhere wearing sandals and empire waist tops, one racist goofy-looking bartender who wouldn’t serve me and the two other black people in the room…you name it.
Figure 1: Why my boy was so happy after waiting 20 minutes for a drink…I don’t know
There were also, however, an unusual number of cougars in the bar – especially for a Wednesday night. Five years ago, I would have been delighted by the presence of cougars, but in my increasingly old age I just find them angering – even when the cougars are hot (as many of them were on Wednesday). As an Indian, the most infuriating thing about cougars is what they represent: the fact that no one listens to their elders anymore.
Aside: Old People
I’m going to guess that people stopped caring about the elderly sometime during the ‘Free Love’ movement in the mid to late 1960s. I base this assumption on absolutely nothing. Ever since then, old people have been viewed less as an invaluable resource of wisdom by virtue of their having actually lived their entire lives already, and more as an inconvenience to be locked away in retirement homes to die alone and away from the only thing they care about – the very families that abandon them.
Cougars are proof that nobody is taking advantage of the wisdom old people have to offer, and I know this because many members of my family a.) are cougars, or b.) happen to be friends with a lot of cougars. In most cases, cougars are single at their ripe old age because – in their own words – they spent their youths concentrating on their careers. Contrary to popular belief, most cougars aren’t bored/neglected married housewives with affluent husbands that are too selfish/stupid to spend time with them. Rather, they tend to be very successful career women who spent their twenties and most of their thirties throwing themselves into their work and neglecting their personal relationships.
Figure 2: Hope it’s worth it!
Women aren’t the only people that to this. Men do it all the time, but the unfair truth is that men become more appealing as they age (this is women’s fault, so maybe it is fair), and they won’t find themselves shit out of options when they suddenly come up for air at age 40. Life’s a bitch. Then you die.
What the hell does this have to do with old people? Simple: people that actually listen to the invaluable things that old people have to say NEVER EVER sacrifice personal relationships to focus on their careers. Why? Because if you’re smart enough to ask an old person “if you had your life to live over again, what would you do differently”, NOT ONE OF THEM would say “you know son, I wish I’d spent more time working and less time with the people that care about me.”
All you readers out there (women in particular) thinking that they’re going to focus 100% on their careers and adopt a “live to work” philosophy, listen carefully: you WILL regret it. Especially if one day you stumble across some smartass 25 year old mocking you on the internet to an audience of thousands.
Beyond that, cougars themselves aren’t really all that irritating. What IS irritating is the behavior of the twentysomething idiots that try to hit on them. A ‘converstation’ with between a cougar and some dickwad in a Banana Republic shirt usually goes something like this:
Biff: [approaching Cougar at the bar] “Heeeeeeeey!”
Cougar: “Well hello there.”
Biff: “What are you ladies drinking tonight?” [cougars typically travel in pairs or in threes]
Cougar: “If a handsome young gentleman is buying, I think I’ll have a Stinger”
Biff: “Oh yea, you bet!”
Biff orders three Stingers which, of course, the bartender doesn’t know how to make because it isn’t one of the drinks typically ordered by unsophisticated neophyte college educated jumping jackasses who’ve never heard of anything that isn’t in:
SELECT d.name FROM drinks AS d WHERE d.name IN (‘Rum and Coke’, ‘Red Bull and Vodka’, ‘Incredible Hulk’, ‘Sex on the Beach’, ‘Long Island Iced Tea’, ‘Cranberry and Vodka’, ‘Seven and Seven’, ‘Jaeger Bomb’, ‘Car Bomb’)
Sorry for the SQL. I couldn’t help myself. Fuck you. Anyhow, the conversation continues:
Biff: “So, you ladies in school or something?”
Cougar: [laughs annoyingly] “Oh ho, you’re too kind.”
Biff: “What?” [pretending to be confused]
Cougar: [adopting the ‘sexy eye’] “I’m old enough to be your mother.”
Biff: “No way. My mother’s nowhere near as sexy as you.”
[Sound of vomiting in the background]
Cougar: “What was that?”
Biff: “That tall black/indian guy just yacked…and now he’s pointing a gun at me.”
Maybe I shouldn’t pick on them, since after all any initial conversation between two people trying to get in bed with one another is pretty damn annoying, especially if white men are involved. What’s particularly angering about conversations with cougars is how utterly formulaic and predictable they are:
Figure 3: Sad
My last interaction with a cougar happened about six months ago when Chicken Jon and I were approached by three of them at Union Jacks in Bethesda. I vaguely remember telling one of them that I was gay, while Chicken Jon tried (and failed) not to mock them to their faces. They were all southeast Asian, they all lived together, and apparently ran a ‘massage parlor’.
I’d never in my life been in more of a hurry to go home alone after a night of drinking.
*Actually, I know exactly how. The bartender was giving away $4 drinks