Hell hath no fury like a cougar scorned.

Recently, I met up with a gentlemen friend - or a handsome companion, if you will – not too long ago at a local watering hole. This friend, we’ll call him “Jersey”, not because he’s from the state, but because he’s all of the fist-pumping good time that you can imagine packed into his Gold’s Gym toned body and thousand-watt smile. When someone is also a fan of “X-Treme Tanning” on Facebook, there’s also a pretty good chance that this guy could rival those loveable characters of Jersey Shore. But…he’s entertaining.  And he also happens to attract cougars like flies to berry pie.

Now, I’m not talking about cougars like the actual animal. No, my friends, I’m speaking of the term we affectionately give women between the ages of 40-50 that take their boyfriends in sizes below the age of 30.  Now, you have to hand it to these women…they like what they see and know what they like. Haven’t older men been chasing younger women around for years? So what if the tables have turned and these women enjoy hanging around with their younger counterparts once in awhile? It’s all in the name of fun…right? …

So this one evening I met up with Jersey for a couple of drinks. Here we were enjoying ourselves, him cracking jokes about my dress (I was a little overdressed as I had come from a wedding reception — -what? Like you’re supposed to go home after those?)  and me shaking my head at him in wonder at the diamond stud he wore in his ear (“Really, Jers? REALLY???? A diamond stud? Are you in a boy band now?”) and then, out of nowhere, this older woman approaches him and grabs his arm. She announces that she is ready to leave, and apparently she assumes that so is he. He ignores her. I look at him with an amused look on my face…apparently this bar didn’t get it’s nickname “The Cougar Den” for nothing.  He also ignored my look.  She continued to pull at his arm and he continued to face the other way. I tried to not stare and get caught up in what I felt like for sure was going to turn into an episode of Dallas.  Clearly frustrated by him ignoring her, she took one look at me in my strapless dress and high heels and then said to him – still not taking her eyes off of me -  “What’s THIS all about?”. Uh-oh. I could imagine my eyes growing wide. I felt like the loud music that had been pumping out of the speakers suddenly came to a screeching halt.  Jersey continued to not respond…not even when “Cougar” got right in his face, yelling and calling him all sorts of names.  He kept nodding, mumbling “whatever” under his breath, his back still turned to her. Well, Jers, that’s where you probably made your first – and last – mistake. Don’t ever underestimate the power.  Cougar proceeded to pick up an entire full bottle of beer from a nearby table and  pour it directly over the unsuspecting head of Jersey.  NOW the bar was really paying attention. Still facing away, he turned to the bartender and politely asked for a towel as beer dripped down his face, off the tip of his nose, and onto his polo. Cougar, in a huff, turned on her heel and stomped out, not without her first wishing me well with Jersey.

Folks, there’s not many occasions where I’m speechless. But I gotta tell you. I had no words for this.  Jersey turned to me and said “That’s the first time someone ever poured a drink on me! I can’t believe she did that! She’s crazy!!” And I responded, “Really? Really? Because you kind of strike me as the kind of guy that might get a drink or two poured over his head once in awhile”.  He just looked at me and glared while I had a good laugh at his disposition.  These are one of those times where I ask myself “How do I get myself into these situations?” and also a time where I tell myself “Damn – you can’t MAKE UP this stuff!”.  (just as an FYI, this blog post will be immediately followed by a phone call from my mother (after reading the post) who will lecture me on the dangers of getting myself into such situations, etc., etc. who are these people that you hang out with, etc. etc., why do you go to such places, etc.etc.etc.  Remember me putting my face in the rye-dip bowl years ago at a New Years Eve party? My mom gave me a ten minute lecture on that last month. And it happened in like 2002).

Well, we’ve all been there, haven’t we? We’ve all been in Cougar’s position where, with our most dramatic flair, we would like to throw a drink in someone’s face. Punching or hitting just won’t do. There’s something immensely satisfying about actually taking a drink and pouring it on someone. A punch lasts a second…but you can drag out a good drink pouring over someone to last at least 30 seconds.  But it’s got to be at that right moment. You also have to be particular about what you are wearing for such occasion…or how you do your hair. Take for instance when I was a bridesmaid in Carrie’s wedding. I asked for the “up-do” for my hair to have more “volume” and not to be stretched back to the point where my eyebrows ended up in their own zipcode. Well, the hairdresser gave me volume alright. She pulled my hair up into such a bouffant do’ that I gained a few inches. I walked over to where Carrie was getting her hair done, and she looked at me and said without skipping a beat,  ”What, are we on Dynasty? You look like you’re going to throw a drink in someone’s face or push someone into a pool”. I had to admit, my hair was a little big.  I didn’t throw a drink in someone’s face that evening, but I bet no one would bat an eyelash if I did. It would go along with the territory.

I wasn’t entirely surprised that Cougar poured a drink on Jersey. He probably had it coming. And let’s be clear – she probably had a few years too many of taking  B.S. from men. Cougar had reached her boiling point. In your early 20′s you’re still all apologetic and forgiving when guys pull the wool over your eyes…but when you get a little older and wiser, you suddenly realize that getting shoveled lines of manure by guys in their late 20′s who tan for a hobby and work out 10 times a week, isn’t so fun anymore. In fact, it makes you draw a pretty clear line of what you are able to take. And you make sure that at that line, your drinks are lined up.  A slap won’t do in this case. Nope.  A good old fashioned drink throwing says so much more. It says, “not only am I going to ruin your clothes, but I’m going to make you smell like the trash that I think you are” or something dramatic like that.  And you need to announce a phrase like this – not just say it -, with your chin in the air. After the drink throwing, it is also imperative that you leave the establishment immediately. Who sticks around after pouring a drink on someone? You had a dramatic entrance, you need to make a dramatic departure. And that departure should come quickly and leave people guessing. 

I think it’s safe to say that Jersey probably didn’t learn his lesson. But Cougar made her point. And she made it publicly. Now, I’m not advocating for this kind of behavior or that this is a good way to solve conflicts. (that would be a messy and expensive way of always expressing your anger). But, once in awhile, there’s a time and place that calls for a little public humiliation, nothing hurtful, but just enough to make a statement. Cougar didn’t look like the crazy woman Jersey made her out to be — I mean, she wasn’t the one standing in the middle of the bar with beer dripping off of her face and clothes. But, unfortunately for me, I was still standing next to him. And I had no idea why.

Sometimes we lose our way. We think someone’s attractive and fun and we get caught up in the moment of loving that kind of attention by someone we know that’s always been good at giving it.  Deep in the back of our brains, where we are able to store the unthinkables and the things we don’t want to face, is where our sensibilities about guys like Jersey live. We don’t want to believe that he’s giving these flattering lines out to others and that we’re just another pretty girl for him to buy a drink. But sometimes, we are steered back on track by someone completely  out of the blue, making her own statement but clearly sending us an intentional message. Cougar’s was clear. And…where ever you are out there,thank you. The Jersey’s and “Mr. Right Now’s” of the world may be fun for awhile, but I’m still figuring out how to draw my own lines and call them how I see them. Sometimes it takes our fellow females — younger (and I have my good friend “Lolita” to thank for her advice) or older – to line up our drinks for us at that line. And, also to carry a big “up-do”. Cause, you know, the higher the hair, the closer to God.

Plus…I say a drink always looks much classier sitting in your hand than poured over your head.

Leah A. Flynn, Copyright 2010