Grrrrr

I went out to lunch today with three female friends (I'm sorry, I find the phrase girl friends hard to use, for some reason) to the newly revamped restaurant at the Surf Life Saving Club here in Coffs Harbour - the only place in the whole darned town with absolute beach front views. (This is a secondary topic of conversation: how in hell's name is it the case that a town with such a big tourist industry and such magnificent views manages to have so few beach-side restaurants, cafes or bars?) Anyway, we found that our reserved table was right next to a large piece of wall and changed to one with a better view, thus depriving a table of younger men with our company.

Next thing we knew, the waitress said that the table of younger men had asked her if we were 'cougars'? I'm sorry, will you please run that by me again? Do we look like a table of four large felines native to the Americas, with a terratorial range extending from the Yukon to the Andes? No? I thought not. We were nonplussed until the waitress returned to say that the men had explained: 'cougars' are also older women who date younger men. Ahhh... We replied that we were not, but queried what their term was for men who dated younger women, to which the answer was 'rich'. Irony is alive and well in Coffs Harbour.

How do I feel about this? Well strangely, not very flattered. On the one hand I suppose there might be a small tick in the box beside any young man who suggests I might be attractive, but it's slightly unsettling to discover that from my outward appearance I have silently fallen into the age bracket reserved for "older women".