In midtown, there is no shortage of cougars, especially mid-day. I’m sitting at a coffee shop on my corner doing work, and over the past hour I’ve been observing this one cougar corner her quarry into a discussion on where he got his suede driving shoes (he sounds foreign and must not know the legend of the cougar. Surely his accent is like blood in the water – other cougars can smell him from miles around and are slowly circling). Game must be scarce up here, because another cougar is sitting at the next table and keeps butting into their conversation in between slurps of her soup-for-one.
Cougar on the Prowl