I have this tradition where every year, I go out to the Cuff every night before Thanksgiving and dance my ass off. Sure, it’s dangerous because I might have a hangover the next day for Thanksgiving meal but sometimes you just have to go with it and live your life big, you know?

Three Thanksgivings ago was the first time this little tradition started, this Thanksgiving will mark four years to the day. That was the day I met the Cougar.

There are never any women at the Cuff. I noticed her from across the room and she noticed me. I may have been highly intoxicated so the details aren’t entirely clear but we made out, a lot, on the dance floor. My friend GP was trying his damnedest to get her to take me home with her. Luckily, she did not but I did get her phone number.

The next week, we set up a hangout. She was going to come over to watch DEBS. My roommates were also present so the flirtation was awkward to say the least. There’s a part in the movie where I always joke, “Oh, look, her name is Lucy Diamond and she shits diamonds when she leaves the room.”

The cougar then turned to me and said, “If she shits diamonds when she leaves the room, what do you do?”

I’ll give you a minute to think about that one.

I’ve never been so uncomfortable in my life. I was freaking out.

After the movie, she dropped me off at Changes and kissed me goodnight.

Later, we made plans to go on a real date. We were going to go see that dumb movie Capitalism: A Love Story. She drove and on the way, she asked me if I knew how old she was. I, of course, didn’t remember what she had told me the previous week. GP and my combined estimates the next day had her around 34. We were wrong. She was 42.

She explained to me that she had just divorced and we couldn’t be dating. The woman she divorced was also in her 20s and she felt history was repeating itself. Mind you, I was 23 at the time.

When she dropped me off after the movie, I flirted and then left the car. She screamed after me, “You know I have the right to change my mind any time I want, right?” I laughed and then entered the house.

The very next morning, she sent me an e-mail titled “I’m a flirt…” and in it, included two semi scandalous photos of herself in a catholic school girl uniform ala DEBS. The photos were old but she looked exactly the same. Seriously, you couldn’t tell she was 42. She looked 30, maybe.

But the e-mail was weird considering we weren’t supposed to be dating. I continued to text her but we didn’t make any real plans for a while. Finally, she was supposed to come over for another movie night. She showed up 20 minutes early to tell me she couldn’t make it. Evidently, she was a landlord and had to take care of some things. She grabbed one of Laura’s delicious pot pies and then left.

First, why didn’t she just call to tell me that? Second, why the hell did she take my pot pie? You don’t understand, those little pot pies were like heaven and a heaven I can no longer eat now that I have been diagnosed with celiac’s disease. I was livid.

A while later, she sent me an e-mail titled “I made a movie…” and in it, included her “version of the L Word”

To which, I responded: “I think you sent this to me by mistake. I’m guessing that’s for (or from) your ex that you’ll be seeing tomorrow because otherwise all I heard was lesbianpsychobabble, which I try to avoid at all costs. Except when watching The L Word because those crazies have no effect on my life.”

Weird, random note about that video too – a lesbian comedian posted one creepily similar a year after and I swore she got the idea from this video from the Cougar. Evidently she didn’t. I know, I e-mailed her to ask. Check it out though if you want to get creeped out that all lesbians must think like this.

I couldn’t really explain any of this behavior. I tried telling my friends the story but they just told me to run away. I was still texting her here and there so my friend Meghan tried to warn me in a different, more creative way:

I would like to tell you that I listened completely but I still hang out with the Cougar if I see her or if she texts me something fun. You can read about how she terrorized my Super Bowl party this year or how I slept at her house the night before the AIDS Walk last year.

What can I say? I have a very high tolerance for people.