'The Cougar's Den', read the gaudy sign that looked like it was plucked from the eighties. Allegedly, this place was the hot-spot for older women on the prowl for younger men. And, as a fresh college graduate with a new (albeit grueling) job, I was hoping that this was the place that would turn my unsuccessful love life around. Let's be real—any woman here would certainly be desperate, right? For better or for worse. At least, that's what my friend who recommended me the place told me.
I showed my ID to the man at the door, who proceeded to let me inside. As I stepped through the threshold into the establishment proper, I was met with a powerful aroma of perfume, booze, and cigarette smoke. The bar was lit with a number of dim colored lights, and smooth music from before my time reverberated throughout the room. Befitting to the name of the place, much of the decor was plastered with a tacky leopard print. It was tacky, sure, but honest, in a way.
The patrons, too, were certainly interesting. My expectations were certainly met, if not exceeded, at the amount of 'cougars' that I saw. Some were lookers, some were certainly not bad, but others were, admittedly, past their prime. Others still were beyond 'past their prime' but attempted to hide the fact through copious amounts of makeup. The common factor here, however, was that they all were already chatting up a boy (or boys) like me. Was I out of luck? If everyone here was taken, was there any point in sticking around?
At the corner of the bar, however, I spotted two women, sitting alone, without a guy in sight. It was hard to tell how they looked due to the dim lighting, but I didn't care—I was going to take this chance. And, judging from their raucous laughter, they were pretty drunk, so I thought my chances were pretty good.
After I mustered up a bit of courage, I approached the two. One of the women was shorter and bustier, with fluffy brunette hair; the other has more slender, bespectacled, and had straight black hair. Wait, they looked worryingly familiar. Quickly a wave of shock and horror washed over me—these two boozed-up women were Mom and Aunt Judy, no doubt on the prowl for new boyfriends. Here I thought I had lucked out, but my hopes were dashed in an instant.
I tried to get away before they noticed, but they spotted me regardless. "Heeey, cutie!" beckoned Mom, apparently not recognizing me.
"Come sit with us, handsome! We don't bite! Hey, wait—" Aunt Judy noticed. "Mary, that's ${name}!"
Now that I was identified, there was no sneaking away. Reluctantly I approached the two.
"O-oh! I guess that is ${name}, huh?" hiccuped Mom, noticeably surprised. "W-what are you doing here at a place like this, young man?"
Definitely a bit flustered, I replied "Well, uh, a coworker recommended me this place. That's all."
My aunt smirked and stifled back a chuckle. "You're here to meet girls our age, aren't ya?" She downed a gulp of her drink without second-thought.
That was absolutely true, though it was definitely to embarrassing to admit to them. I shrugged and answered "I'm just here to have a good time."
"We're here to get dates—!" cheerfully spouted Aunt Judy, before Mom put a hand over her mouth.
"No, no, big lie," denied Mom. "But since you're here, s-settle a debate for us! Who looks cuter, me or your aunt?"
Aunt Judy absolutely perked up at this, and added "It's me! Me! I'm the pretty one. You're lucky I'm here, otherwise we wouldn't be attracting any boys."
"What boys?!" exclaimed Mom. "We've been alone all night! And besides, I'm the cuter one. Right, ${name}?"
I sighed, and my hand met my face. Did they really expect me to respond to any of this? They were my relatives, for crying out loud. How could I have had any opinion on which of them looked better?