Ask A Cougar

Ask A Cougar: Younger Man Seeks Older Woman…But Where?

Recently, I got an email from a “cub” reader. He writes:

How do I go about meeting cougars?  I’ve always been more attracted to older women and I’ve had some success in the past but much more failure. I’d like to increase my success rate and my conquests. I’m 25 and very comfortable with my age but it seems easier meeting younger women.

Very respectfully,

The Lil Cub

Firstly, Lil Cub, I applaud your excellent taste in women. And I agree, the best doesn’t come easily. Without revealing too much about cougar habitat and habits (I have to protect the species after all), I will try to offer some guidance.

In order to meet a cougar, you have to think like a cougar. Cougars are mavericks. They like fun and adventure. They love a challenge. They’re self-made, independent woman who call the shots because, quite frankly, they really do know better.

Cougars regard the term, “cougar,” as being stupid and hardly worth wasting picosecond on. But they also understand that most people (cubs) have a tough time with complexity and require reductionist labels to make sense of the world.

Though the species may look to outsiders (and cubs particularly) as being remarkably uniform, cougars are in fact a highly diverse group in terms of temperaments, interests, and desires. A cub must be prepared for anything.

He must also be very smart because cougars love interesting conversation, studded here and there with a fiendishly clever witticism. A cub, then, would be wise to treat intelligent discourse as “catnip,” and begin to hone his command of metaphysics, literature, evolutionary psychology, the Kama Sutra, luxury sex toys, that odd little story about Schrödinger’s cat, bargain shopping strategies, exotic spa locales, and even psychic phenomenon (they can’t help themselves).

Having laid the groundwork, where might a worthy cub go hunting for such an exciting beast? Herewith are my top three suggestions:

1. A giant bookstore such as Barnes & Noble or Borders where there are plenty of reading nooks and a coffee shop.
2. A wine store such as Total Wine that offers educational events and wine tastings.
3. A sophisticated new wine bar (consult your local listings).

My fellow feline sisters may disagree but on days when a special event is being held – say an author lecture or a wine tasting – book stores and wine stores are simply purring with high caliber cougars. Plus there is great utility is being part of an event since it provides easy opportunity to spark a conversation. For example:

Cub: What do you think of that new Zinfandel?
Cougar: Not impressed. You just can’t beat Old Vines I’m afraid and this proves it.
Cub: I’d like to shake your Old Vine.
Cougar: How cheeky, you child boy!
Cub: I only look boyish. May I treat you to another sampling? You may like the  ménage à deux.
Cougar: Fool! The wine is called Ménage à Trois and it’s a red.
Cub: I wasn’t talking about sampling wine, ma chérie…

See how easy it is? In the above example, I have employed what could never be construed as a fiendishly clever witticism but suffices as a highly effective alternate strategy: the use of surprise and outrage to get a cougar’s attention. Though she may be thinking to herself, “quel jerque,” deep down she is likely allowing you a point or two for your boldness and impish sense of humor. For above all, a cougar is a predator with a big cuddly sense of humor.

Now, the careful cub reader may remember I also mentioned wine bars, of which there seem to be more and more all the time (at least where I live). These are crawling with cougars, all drinking with uninhibited gusto and carrying on as though they were in their very own private cougar club. Easy hunting indeed if you can handle the challenge of approaching a group of cougars who may point and laugh hysterically at your inability to enunciate your name without breaking into spittle and stutter.

As we mentioned earlier, nothing worth having comes easy.

So there you have it. I suppose you could try an online site but I don’t know any cougars who take them seriously. Cougars hunt by smell and instinct, neither of which can be effectively exercised online. For never forgot, it’s in her nature to view everything lil cubster who comes along as just a lil appetizer.  Unless of course said cub possesses a prize piece of meat, in which case, anything can happen.

Let me know how it goes.

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New Zealand’s Sexy Cougars

Are all “cougars” the same? A reader, “2Passion,” has kindly sent me the Air New Zealand’s take on the cougar. Seriously funny and worth studying for cougar strategy. I’ve submitted a lengthy proposal to Air NZ for a grant to document cougar-cub mating habits in the wild (Fiji). Wish me luck!

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What Would You Do With a Male Escort?

Diane Keaton has her signature gesture of disapproval—she grimaces like a kid being forced to eat fried liver and bats her hands around as though shooing off a hornet. An interview with her appeared in the November issue of MORE magazine, and she had just that reaction when asked about a man in her life. Then she added, “I don’t think men even look at me anymore. If anything could work in that area, it would probably be if I paid him. Then I think we could work out an affable relationship.”

At which point it dawned on me that she was talking about hiring a male escort.

Now, I am in no way suggesting Diane Keaton has or even wants to employ the services of a male escort. She was joking (I think) and it got me thinking.

Would I hire a male escort if I had the money (it’s not cheap)? Would you? Are male escorts becoming more acceptable since HBO launched the series, Hung, about a school teacher who finds out his biggest asset is between his legs, not his ears?

Regular readers may remember I’ve touched on this subject before. Let’s just say, things got weird. And I still didn’t get any answers so I’m taking another crack at the topic.

At the recommendation of Holly, a high-end female escort who also runs a website for male escorts, I interviewed Storm Astor (do I have to tell you that’s not his real name?) by email since he’s based in the UK.

Storm sounds like a genuinely nice guy and I’ve no reason to doubt his stories. He describes how he got into the business when his ex-wife explained, “You don’t have to fuck them and I guarantee there are loads of wealthy ladies out there who would love to have you on their arm at functions and dinners.” (We know who had the business brains in that family.)

Here’s what I learned from Storm and Holly. Male escorts provide many benefits but oddly sex is not the most important one. Far more than sex, female clients value talk—the kind where he’s actually listening.

So successful male escorts have good communication skills but what else do you get for your money?

If Storm’s stories and promotional copy are any indication, you can “expect a guy who exceeds your expectations with just one smile…an angel and devil in one (think Hugh Grant crossed with Colin Firth)…a shoulder to cry on…a romantic hero…a cowboy…the kind of man you didn’t think existed…” He also adds, “Why, you will you will keep turning around wondering where my sword-bearer and white horse have gone.”

In short, you’re getting true romance. The kind of thing women can only dream of.

Now let’s say you’re a more practical gal and you need a little more than romance. What else can a male escort be for you? I asked Storm:

• The perfect gentleman at a black tie event or the dreaded Christmas party you have to go to
• The charming date for a family event where you can show your annoying relatives once and for all that you’re no spinster!
• A companion who can fill your weekend with pampering after you’ve exhausted yourself working from “silly o’clock to midnight” every weekday
• A man’s opinion for when you’re clothes shopping and you don’t want to deal with the boyfriend’s sulking because he’s missing some game
• A vacation where everything is taken care of—“all you need to do is show up with your passport and luggage.”

Good grief. Who’s the idiot who said money can’t buy happiness?

More on Storm here:

You can visit Storm’s personal website @ http://www.stormastor.com/

You can also Tweet him @ www.twitter.com/stormastor

CdM Profile @ http://www.conciergedumonde.com/storm_astor.htm

Blog @ http://stormastor.wordpress.com/

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Cougar Woman & Cub Breakup

It finally happened. The day all my friends predicted. My cub, Michael, and I broke up after almost two years together. We had met under the most curious of circumstances, which you can read about here. He was 26 and I was 45 and at the time and had never heard the word, “cougar.” Now I was a card-carrying member of the cougar club sitting in Bombay Spice, a local Indian restaurant, about to bring my club membership to an end.

I couldn’t stay long because I was racing off to some networking event. I got to the point quickly.

“Look, you know I’ll always love you,” I said patting his meaty hand. “It just doesn’t make sense for me anymore. We’re at such different places in our lives.”

Michael gave me a questioning look. “It’s not like the age difference just suddenly appeared,” he said. “Why does it matter now?” Michael had just come from the gym. His black hair was combed neatly and his cheeks were rosy red. He leaned forward on the table waiting for an answer.

“Uh, because you’re busy building your empire,” I said. “And I’m busy doing nothing except wondering how to restart my life.”

“I never got in your way from doing that,” he said. “I only encouraged you.”

Of course, Michael was right. Even at my age, I still had to fight the tendency to make a guy the center of my life. It was as though the gravitational pull of a man was just too powerful, and if I didn’t have enough ballast in my own life, I’d be sucked in to his.

“You know I just pretend to be a strong, empowered woman,” I explained. “I need to get a life—a creative life, say.”

“You have a life,” he said. “Maybe it’s not the one you want right now but it’s a life.”

“I need to find the life I really want,” I said. “Not just the one I fell into. I should probably get a job, too. A relationship is too distracting.”

Michael shook his head in disbelief. Then he crossed his arms and leaned back as though wondering if life had a particular direction or it was all just random. “What about sex?” he asked finally. “Can we still have sex?”

“As in no-strings attached sex?” I said raising one eyebrow. “Is that really possible after being in an actual relationship?”

“Anything’s possible,” he said. “Except for you going without sex.”

It’s annoying when someone knows you better than you know yourself, but I held firm. I explained I was entering a new phase in my life, one where my creative passions would reign supreme, where my dedication to my writing craft would hold me in the only relationship I could control – the one between my laptop and myself. He rolled his eyes, laughed hard, calmed down and shook his head. Then he went back to his lentil soup.

“That’ll be the day,” he said.

I finished my iced tea and raced off wondering why it seemed so funny, this idea of me pursuing the cloistered creative life. I’ll show him, I thought to myself. And then it hit me. I was free at last to do the one thing that I’d been itching to do for months now, the one thing that had caused Michael to look at me with fright and horror in eyes. I would cut my hair short and let it go gray.

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