In praise of older women. Apparently the latest thing in Toronto is "Cougar" love. Cougars being women in their 40s, 50s and 60s who cruise bars looking for men a generation younger. This Nerve article tells the story.
A desiccated Texarkana sestegenarian finds herself a nice cowboy half her age; a group of three roly-poly forty-somethings are hemmed in on the dance floor by a group of not-unappreciative, not-horrific young guys. Various other women are deep in conversation, not noticing when their beers spill, and the sexier among the cougars have their pick of the pack. The mood is festive, the air speckles with possibility. But your dutiful chronicler, having found himself speaking with and spoken to by more women than in any other bar evening in his allotted years, would, at each critical juncture, find himself more shy than adventuresome – not what cougars are looking for in prey. And thus, instead of being driven back to his hotel in a mini van purchased a decade ago for trips to soccer practice, he returns on the bus alone.
