Don't mess with this cougar...she'll blog about you.

For the past month or so, every Wednesday I go to my ward to cheer on our girls and boys basketball teams. And no, I do not play. PPLLLEEEAASSSSEEE! Natalie does NOT play sports. I am much to awkward and untalented to participate in any sort of group sport. Instead, I consider myself a supporter. Everyone needs a supporter. I fill that void.

Also, Wednesdays provide me a great outlet to flirt and do all the things that are too shameful to do during church on Sundays. AND since there are other wards there that means there are more guys to flirt with. Ok, let's be honest, I don't flirt with boys I don't know. I am much to shy for that.

And this is where my friend Heather comes in. Last Wednesday we were there watching our boys play another ward. And low and behold, there was a boy on the other team that was very cute. I may have joked to Heather that she should talk to him after the game and give him my number. And since Heather is a new friend, maybe she didn't hear the sarcasm in my voice - because when the game was over and I had left, she went up to him and got his number for me.

Now, normal Natalie would not have done anything with that number. But for some reason I thought I was 20 again and had no shame.

And so I text him.

And we decided to meet up sometime on Saturday.

So on Saturday he text me and we decided that we were just going to watch the Duke basketball game at his house. I was not about to submit myself to a whole night with a total stranger - no matter how cute he was.

And so, I made sure I looked as hot and young as I possibly could because as we were texting I found out he was A SOPHOMORE IN COLLEGE. Good hell. I'm a cougar. I did not reveal my age. And if he asked, I was going to be 25. 25 was a good year.

Don't I look 25?

Anyway, I went over to his house. And let me tell you...it was the longest hour and half of my life. Although good looking, the guy was a COMPLETE jerk. He pretty much ignored me the whole time, talked to his roommate more than me, and at one point he got up and made himself a shake and didn't bother to ask me if I wanted anything to drink. Bastard.

I sat there plotting my escape. How was I going to get out of this??? And then I remembered something. I remembered that I was 28 and have actually grown some balls over the years. And so the second the game ended, I said, "Well, I am gong to leave."

And that I did.

And I couldn't have been happier with myself. I guess being a cougar does have it's advantages.