Do You Know the Way to Cougarville?

I guess I'm technically not old enough to be considered a true cougar, but I'm still the most cougaresque of my friends, due to my talents in attracting boys half my age.  Not that I'm trying or anything.  Don't know what it is.  Youngins just dig me.

Lies.  I know what it is.  I not only look young, but act young.  I refuse to subscribe to 30 year old behavior, whatever that is.  So I'm lighthearted!  I pay my bills on time and take care of myself, so if I want to wear bright colored sneakers and bows in my hair, I suppose that's entirely my prerogative.  And though I may look like a girl, I think like a woman.

But I hit new lows this week. The net got cast much too wide.  On Mondays and Wednesdays from 4:30 to 7:30pm, I sit for a sculpting class near the Guggenheim on the UES.  Art students shape my head out of clay.  This gig has really been an experience, I must say.  More to come on that later.  But to not veer off course too much, there's a student at this school I've become friendly with.  He was one of three students sculpting my head, and doing a poor job at it too.  Apparently my head shape is not his strong suit, as it's exceptionally square, or so I'm told.

I couldn't really put my finger on how old he was, but I guessed somewhere around 23 or 24 years.  The thing that threw me was his stoicism.  According to my logic, no one that young would take themselves so seriously, would they?  Well there lies the riddle.  He seemed to have an old soul, this one.  He understood an obscure late 80's Nickelodeon show reference and his tastes in music were elevated.  Sharing an equal appreciation for hip-hop, funk and soul, we had plenty to discuss on that front.  I exchanged numbers with him under the assumption that we could hang and just be friends.  He wasn't the guy for me, at least not in that way.

So he calls one afternoon to see what I'm up to.  I tell him I'm terribly busy, as I needed to do laundry about a week ago, in addition to run a few errands before work.  And for some strange reason, I asked him if he dropped off his laundry or if he did it himself.  Not sure what that was about or where it came from but god bless it, because this brought forth truth.  I was on a need to know basis. 

"I have it done for me," he replied.
"Oh.  So you live at home then," I responded, becoming slightly alarmed. I smelled a rat.
"Yeah.  I'm 20," he said flatly.
"Holy shit. You're 20 years old?  Jesus Christ you're just a kid!" I said incredulously.
"How old are you?" he asked, uneasy.
"Approximately a decade older than you" I replied, indignant.
"Noooooo" he says.
"Yeeeeeess" I say.
"Well let's just hang out."
"Uhhh not today, I've got too much to do.  Call me tomorrow and we'll see," I lied.  Not sure why I said that.  That was weak.  Total bush league.

He calls the next day and I don't pick up.  He calls again and I still don't pick up.  How could I?  The simple fact remained.  When I was ten, he was an infant.  Imagine me at ten years old standing over his crib. I could've flicked his tiny baby penis with my finger.  Vile.

It's unfortunate, because he seems like a lovely person.  It's just not acceptable to congregate with him, now that I know he can't drink in public.  My only other groundbreaking cougar moment was the time a neighborhood kid tried to hit on me while I was working at the wine shop.  I could tell he was really young, but this kid had guts.  He got excited that I actually responded to his "Hello beautiful," as I was outside sweeping the sidewalk.  I reentered the store and he lingered outside for about 10 minutes before walking in and pretending to browse.  Pretty special.  I asked him how old he was, as he clearly could not purchase wine.

"Eighteen," he replied shyly.  "How old are you?"
"Thirty," I said plainly.
His eyebrows arched. 
"Yup," I said.

I waited for him to leave, but he just kept browsing.  Whaaa?

Swiveling around on his heels, hands in pockets, he turns to me and asks "Excuse me, do you wanna go on a date with me?"

Unbelievable.  He really went for it, despite it being possible grounds for statutory rape. Guts and glory kids, guts and glory.

I told him though I admired his courage, there was no way I would be dating him in this lifetime.  He left shortly thereafter.

I've got to give it to the little guy, he really took a shot.  This is more than I can say for many grown men I've encountered.  I once had a guy ask me if he could kiss me while we were in public, as he simultaneously leaned in for a kiss--without warning!  Woof.  One, you can't ask permission for something like that.  You just have to judge it correctly and use your common sense.  Two, it's a sad day when an 18 year old displays more heart than you.  And though I wasn't fooled by the 18 year old chepito, I was sort of fooled by the sculptor.  I can't believe I almost invited him over to listen to records.  And he was so jazzed when I told him I thought he was 23 or 24.  Epic fail.  Dude was born in 1990.

Mothers lock up your sons!