A Cougar's Conundrum

Of all the strange experiences of the past few weeks, I gotta say The Intern’s girlfriend Lisa provided the Numero Uno.

If you’ll recall, Lisa is the languid-eyed young lady who came along just in the nick of time for The Intern, shortly after his US girlfriend called it quits. Personally, I think he’s well rid of the fickle little heifer. I mean, The Intern postponed his psychology degree to live with her while she finished HER degree, but she couldn’t support HIM in his career choice. (Okay, so his choice involved a 7,000 mile separation, but come on! Fair is fair!)

Anyway, Lisa is Indian, Muslim, 21 years old, exotically attractive, about as big as my left thigh, and I’m told she’s quite articulate and intelligent. Sadly, I have absolutely no personal proof of the latter two qualities. That’s because every time Lisa is around me, all she does is stare and mutter single syllables. When I first met her, I thought maybe her English was limited, but then I was told she speaks 4 languages fluently. Then I decided she was just terribly shy, but I was told she’s quite conversant around other people.

It’s just that when I’m around, she barely speaks. Now, at first I thought, “Okay, I’m this loud black American woman who probably curses too much, and is the boss of 3 male employees. These are all things Lisa can’t conceive of, because in her culture, a woman who speaks without being given permission, who orders men around, who drinks like a fish every now and then….she must think I’m some sort of freakish infidel, or something.

Personally, Lisa reminds me of Morticia Adams, which is to say I’m just as uncomfortable around her as she is around me. But here’s the rub…..I can roll with her 23 year old boyfriend like we're best buddies! Maybe it’s because he’s a fellow American, and we both have slightly warped senses of humor, both like science fiction, the Rush Hour film trilogy and Monty Python, both are unabashedly fond of just about every part of a pig except its brain, and both like slot machines, but I just like hanging out with the kid.

This could be confirmation of one of my greatest fears…that I am in fact highly-functioning yet mildly retarded. I simply do not feel like I’m 4 years away from 50, whatever that’s supposed to feel like. I mean, maybe I should be more sober and mature and totally uninterested in cartoons and hip hop and tequila shots (The Intern introduced me to that demonic practice), but I like all of those things! Sure, I can hold my own in any intellectual debate, and I’m certainly not interested in spending every night at “the club” downing beers or anything. Hell, most nights all I want to do is go home and soak my corns.

But I do find myself more interested in the pursuit of fun than the average 46 year old, I guess. Maybe it’s because I never married and had children. I’m convinced those things can completely sap your quest for continuous, aimless levity. All I know is that, through the years, I’ve developed close, lasting friendships with people at least 10 years younger than me, mostly because, well, they’re just more fun than people my own age.

So it’s only natural, for ME, anyway, to become friends with The Intern. I highly respect his intellect, maturity, work ethic, and commitment to this project, but he’s also just fun to be around. Perfect example: when we go to Kampala, The Intern likes to hit the casinos. He made a nice little bundle playing Texas Hold ‘Em once, but when I hang out with him, we play slot machines. And we have a hoot laughing, cursing the malfunctioning machines, and placing bets on which foreign businessman will hook up with which consumptive whore wandering through the casino.

Well, last Monday night we were at the machines when Lisa called. She knew we’d left Gulu because of the Ebola threat, and so she was doing what most 21 year olds do when they’re separated from their boyfriend for more than 5 minutes….calling and texting incessantly. The Intern told her he was at the casino with me, and that we were headed to dinner afterwards. They talked for a few minutes more, and then hung up.

The next morning, the USAID Kampala folks basically announced they’d rather have us return to Gulu ASAP, and so we were in limbo. Apparently, Lisa had planned to come and visit The Intern while we were in Kampala, because he’d told her we’d be there indefinitely. But since we had just learned we might be returning to Gulu soon, The Intern called her and told her she probably ought to stay put.

The next afternoon, Lisa called to say she was on a bus halfway to Kampala.

At the time, I didn’t think anything of it. I just took the old “young love” attitude about it all. They’re two horny little rabbits who can’t stand to be apart from each other, so naturally Lisa would go ahead and ride a rickety, cramped bus 7 hours to be with her boyfriend, even if it was only for one night, after which she’d have to get right back on another rickety, cramped bus for 7 hours to head straight back to Gulu.

But then I got a bit of a shock. The next day, The Intern told me that Lisa came to Kampala because she thought he and I were fooling around. That struck me as funny, but then he added that she thought I was 26 years old, and that I was pushin’ up on her man.

Now, I gotta admit, hearing that did me a world of good! Seven months in Gulu have aged me considerably, in some ways. My nerves are shot, I get frustrated and tired a bit more easily, and it just feels like the incessant challenges have taken years off my life. So to have a 21 year old girl think I was 20 years younger than I actually am, AND that I actually had the energy to try and seduce her 23 year old boyfriend, was pretty freakin’ incredible!! Let’s just say it put a little pep in my step.

The Intern set her straight, but something tells me Lisa still harbors a few doubts. She STILL doesn’t speak when I’m around, and I’ve given up trying to draw her out. Ultimately, I’ve decided I don’t have to like The Intern’s girlfriend to work with him. I just have to get used to feeling slightly creeped out whenever she’s around. Thank God for DSTV and separate dwellings.

But you know what? The whole situation has me wondering if it’s time to start seriously considering younger men as potential dating and relationship partners. Like I’ve written before, most of the men who hit on me over here are in their late 20’s. Plus, I’ve had more stimulating conversations with the 23 year old Intern than most of the men I’ve dated in recent years. Should I just shift the prism on the lens a bit, and accept that most men my age have ex-wives, kids (or grandkids), and decades of psycho-emotional baggage that frankly, I don’t feel like being bothered with?

Should I just find me a unspoiled young ‘un and help turn him into a real man?

Discuss amongst yourselves.