Went to face my cougar cub at the hotdish revolution...awkward. He seemed nervous, I was nervous. Shook his hand and told him I was sorry if I scared or confused him. He laughed. Gave him the card. I blushed, he blushed...he said he would read it later, but went into back and read it right away and started bringing me beers. I brought him food. We talked. I talked to all the neighborhood assn people. Sat withmy funny customers, talked politics, talked business with other small biz owners about how tough things are since bridge collapse, touted the BIZ event...he watched every guy I talked to and hugged and smoozed. I smoozed some more, he brought me more beer set up three meetings with holland and windom people(all men)..he brought me more beer. Of course I really don't like beer... beer makes me want to sleep, but i'd drink a few sips and ditch the glass. After enough quarter beers i got damned tired so I gathered my goodies and headed out.
He asked why I wouldn't stay.
I am confused.
Good cougar? Bad cougar? Just plain funny cougar? what the hell... now I have that super dooper specific only to beer and me, headache...
Nite lad
Sunday, April 13, 2008
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