Okay, say you’re minding your own business and you get a text from someone trying to set you up. Now, the other half of what you’re getting matched up with would make you a cougar. So, hypothetically speaking, he’s five years younger than you originally thought and you decide that won’t work. Okay? Then, he or she feels all bad ’cause it ain’t been easy to get hooked up, so you, hypothetically, decide that maybe you oughta see what this fella’s all about. Give the cougar life a try. Alright?
Well, before you knew his actual age, he or she begins the communication process and it comes primarily in the form of texting. There’s been a couple of calls but ’cause Cougar is a cougar, she picks up the phone to call. They talk. He calls back a couple more times, in the same day but no talking goes on after that. So hypothetically, in the meantime, you go into coughing fits on account of something like pollen catches a hold of you and it’s so bad, you lose your voice and strain to talk when you have to but you ain’t gotta be concerned about that with the young fella ’cause all he wanna do is punch letters in a damn phone. Hypothetically speaking, you assume it’s time to hang up your cougar hat. For two days, you get this he-so-sad story, which, hypothetically, is the time you made the call to say something like , ‘Okay, let’s talk.’
Anyhow, hypothetically, for about three days, you can’t talk but hell, he don’t know and never will ’cause his ass is still punching letters in the phone like he’s got an abbreviated mindset. ‘Cause the whole thing seems downright silly, you come into your mind when you’re feeling better and go to thinking, ‘What kinda shit is this? Is this how they do it?’ Shit, hypothetically speaking, you go back to minding your business since you weren’t interested in being no cougar in the first place.