I can't say for a fact that the lady I have seen is a cougar. She could be in a happy marriage with her husband of the same age. But because this is my blog and I can write what I want, I'm going to tell her story the way I see it.
I'm on my way to work and decide I must make a stop at Sonic for a limeade. While I sit in the drive-thru (why make the car hop tramp about to my car when they have a drive-thru lane?), I find myself thinking Sonic really needs to consider adding tequila to its drink add-ons. Then, something catches my eye.
Then, the driver steps out of the car to pick something up. This was when I realized she might be impressed with her age. You see, she was so tan she was the color of a broken-in baseball glove. Her hair was died so blonde it was white (I get this, older ladies, as you don't notice the gray). And her boobs? Well, let's just say her car, tanning and hair color aren't her only expenses. In fact, when I saw her, I thought of this lady.
Um, I guess the lady in the Sonic drive-thru.