Personal Narrative: The Cougar Paradigm

In the blinding haze of the following story I am less about to comprehend how so many mature women have perpetuated the cougar paradigm. After playing cougar for five minutes, I can honestly say I did not feel like a predator, but like prey in a cougar canned hunt.
It was after midnight and the band was midway through their final set. At some point the night and turned into the next day which happened to be Valentine's Day. I am not sure exactly how this part of the outing turned into a drama set to play out the next week, all I know is that I sat down on a bar bench next to a indescript stranger, so that I would be sitting across from a friend, who was sitting next to a friend of hers. Her friends was sitting across from his friend who was sitting next to me. My friend’s friend said “My buddy here need a hug” With these words I looked to the left at the figure seated beside me with golden brown hair and a blanket-like wool

He was mesmerized and impressed with my talents and accomplishments. He was not the least bit shy about expressing his instant attraction for me. I felt a spark of an odd kind of connection while at the same time my sense of better judgement was holding me firmly in place. He was significantly younger than me which was obvious in many ways though his courage and forthright manner kept me from believing he was too young. At the very least these qualities would leave me open-minded.
He told me to guess his age and without thinking about it for even a moment, I looked into his face, trying not to get lost in his eager green eyes, and replied 32. He was baffled, not because I guest i right, but because he was 21, less than half my age and if I had had children he could have been my son. It was obvious that I had reached the edge of the cliff and the ground was eroding under the weight of my stance. I could fight or give way to gravity, but either way I was