Bollinger Babe

The PTA, Mrs. Robinson,

Won't okay the way you do your thing

Ding ding ding.

And you'll get yours, Mrs. Robinson,

Foolin' with that young stuff like you do

Boo hoo hoo, woo woo woo.

-Frank Sinatra's take on Simon & Garfunkel's "Mrs Robinson"-

Apparently there’s a (new) name for "us". CJ used to delight in calling me "Mrs. Robinson" the whole time Jailbait and I were and item, but the term "cougar" is a new one to me. Now, I’m a dog person, but if I were to identify with a cat, I’d like it to be something more glamorous – the chic, elegant cheetah or the sleek, darkly mysterious panther. Even wildcat or lioness. But Cougar? Huh?

Found on Wikipedia:

• "Cougar" refers to an older woman, usually in her 40s-60s who sexually pursues younger men in their 20s or early 30s.

"Jailbait" refers to a sexually attractive person, female or male, below the legal age of consent. This designation connotes enticement to endanger oneself of being prosecuted for statutory rape.

"May-December romance" is a romance in which the age differential between the two adults is wide enough to risk social disapproval

My own July-October romance took place in a country where everything seemed legal. Jailbait didn’t blink an eye, and was as much at home with me on his arm as he would’ve been with a girl his own age. 5 years having passed since I last lived in Europe, but with every day I spent in Holland, more and more I was struck by how youthful our Asian tanned skin is, and how in Europe, I could still easily pass for my early twenties.

So why not lie? Especially when I TELL them I lie. I say "25" when my qualification and work experience suggest otherwise. I was incredibly reluctant to push the issue and find out the guy I had this magical first date with was younger than my baby sister! So I tried to shove it under the carpet and did the mature option of just not thinking about it. It worked for a long while ....

We couldn’t get enough of each other, and eventhough I had to return to the Hague the same night, we stretched the evening as far as it would take us. Under the midnight sun (I love Europe in summertime!) we took a long walk by the canals where he showed me the quieter, more romantic parts of Amsterdam. Tired of kissing on the bridges (as romantic as it was, my heels weren’t built to last for more than getting out and getting in cars, or bicycles as the case may be), I motioned to a more comfortable looking bench. (This was when he first explained to me the concept about not sitting on somebody else’s bench.)

I was aching to get flat on my back, but paradoxically, because I liked him so much, I didn’t want to give in so easily. (On our first date! Honestly! When did I turn into this man eater?!) He did try though, ever so sweetly mumbling how he lived close by. When we later talked about it, I told him I would’ve been insulted if he didn’t at least try it on, but I had made the deliberate decision to hold out.

He was flabbergasted, the Dutch being people of no guile. What you see is what you get, he didn’t understand why not give in to something you both want. An argument I should've expected from any 20 year old when the prospect of sex is laid before them, I suppose. But I really do think for him it was as simple as that. Jailbait was easy going and wonderfully uncomplicated. I loved our relationship for its sheer honesty and lack of drama. He possessed a deep understanding and maturity of someone years older than him that floored me.

Pretty soon I was wondering exactly how long exactly I was to hold out for. Highly conscious of my limited time in this paradise - I was living like I was on borrowed time – which undeniably, I was. When he showed up at my flat with a bottle of bubbly, the very same weekend my flatmate (who, for the first time since we begun living together was away) was away for the entire weekend, I thought it was divine providence.

I didn’t have the heart to tell him I didn’t enjoy champagne that much. So … what’s a smart girl to do?

What else! I made sure we never made it to even popping the cork ….

PS – I also made certain to find out what the age of consent was in the Netherlands was before anything resembling a felony took place!