The “Hungry, Hungry Cougar” Edition

In Advice, Animals, Funny, People, question, Social Commentary on October 24, 2007 at 1:03 pm

Well loyal readers, after devouring an entire season (plus 2 eps) of Heroes on TV-Links, I have turned back to my initial form of postgraduate procrastination: the Ask Ally “column”

Dianne of Woodstock would like to know:

Dear “Ask Ally,”

Now that you have become an experienced traveler and have lived in various geographic locations with varying demographics and have become a “woman of the world”, I have a very serious question to ask of you.

Why does it seem when one is in a small town where it is very easy to find one’s way around and it is difficult to get lost, it is, conversely, extremely difficult to find any pockets of sophistication, i.e. a bar where a woman of my age and experience may like to go for a quiet drink and conversation with friends. I’m afraid if I were to frequent the bars in my hometown, I might be labeled a “cougar” by the younger crowd that tends to hang out in these places.

I hope that you are able to offer some insight into this burning question.

*   *   *   *   *

Dear Dianne:

Your question is one that I must admit I know to plague many women, both young and old. In fact, I am sure I would not be too far out of line to suggest that it is extremely difficult to find pockets of sophistication even in larger cities now-a-days.
Your question is indicative of a troubling trend that I noticed – particularly in Canada (okay, thus far only in Canada, but I will assume elsewhere too) – occurring recently.

For example, in my hometown there is a street composed of several bars known as Hess St. I am not particularly old, yet while I only became able to enter the fine drinking establishments of Hess St. a mere three and a half years ago, even I have noticed a disturbing trend in the pubs, clubs, and bars which make up this haven of inebriation. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to find any place to innocently wet your whistle without running into a virtual gaggle of slobbering drunk “young ladies” (and by “running into” I of course mean “being elbowed in the tit by”).

Even in the relatively laid back Nova Scotia, a pub that was once the refuge of the cooler, intelligent, and infinitely more attractive portion of the student population has found itself “bumping” with similar girls and a great deal too many crowing, chugging, trampling young gentlemen.

If that isn't sex-bunny material, I don't know what is.

But turning away from my own personal vendetta against the constantly growing slut and frat-boy culture amongst young people, let’s focus on your actual question.
I certainly see a problem with the neglect of the more sophisticated members of the population when it comes to entertainment – and this sophisticated group consists of more than just myself and my friend/sex bunny, Ralph Fiennes.

I think, in all seriousness, it comes down to basically a lack of respect. This is certainly magnified when it comes to “going out” and acting like a flock of drunken, horny geese missing a chromosome or two… (or three, if you’re underage).

And, true to form, Western society is infinitely more concerned with finding a way to capitalize on this behaviour than in ensuring that everyone has a fun place to hang out and scope the fellas. It’s quite similar to trying to find a CD at HMV by a band or artist of more than 5 years ago that hasn’t had a song reworked by Britney Spears or Jessica Simpson. If you’ve ever tried to market something to anyone, you’ll know that the young un’s are usually the ones stupid enough to spend money on useless shit (or in this case, overpriced alcohol in sweaty, stinky, dirty clubs that never EVER have enough toilet paper and play crappy music).

The result is that as the two factions continue to feed each other’s habit it becomes increasingly difficult for a woman of sophistication, maturity, and more intelligence than a hard-boiled egg to find a pleasant place to spend a free evening. If you attempt to take back even one of these bars, you will likely feel, as you pointed out, like a cougar.

What is to be done?

Well, I have – being me – a few simple solutions.

1 ) Make sure, before leaving for a few drinks of a Friday eve with some gal-pals, that you’re looking fine: styled, classy, posh – intimidatingly so. This should frighten away the crowds of drunken youth (class and wit to them are like silver bullets to werewolves and wooden stakes to vampires).

2 ) If step one is not successful, don’t forget to include some means of persuasion in your handbag: if class and wit don’t repel the drunken youngsters, step up to some actual silver bullets and wooden stakes. I find the latter to be particularly effective.

3 ) If you overhear someone label you a cougar, don’t feel ashamed: you have infinitely more experience and brains than they do. Rather than send a biting retort their way (they won’t understand it) help them to learn by calmly introducing them to a real cougar – a hungry, hungry cougar… preferably in heat.

4 ) Get used to using the phrase “Oops, my elbow slipped” when trying to make your way out of a pub that has become too crowded.

5 ) Get used to using the phrase “Oops, my foot slipped” when trying to make your way out of a pub that has become too crowded.

6 ) Get used to using the phrase “Oops, my pepper-spray slipped” when trying to make your way out of a pub that has become too crowded.

7 ) Try picking one bar to be your “haunt,” and effectively turn away less desirable clientèle by bringing along a camera and employing a little bit of blackmail (do you think that boy wants his mother to see him dancing like that?)

8 ) Pull some influence with the town council and get them to impose a 6 o’clock curfew for anyone under 30.

9 ) Make friends with the DJ and convince him that today’s youth are really getting into that Bryan Adams in a big, big way.

10 ) Did I mention the hungry, hungry cougar lesson?

Hungry, Hungry Cougar


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