“Does anyone see anything remotely approaching an eligible bachelor under the age of sixty-five? I’m not too picky. Even sixty-five and a half is acceptable, but I’m getting laid tonight.” Jesse scanned the crowd again and pouted. “I see lots of cougars, for sure.” Sam grinned salaciously. “I don’t want a cougar. I’ll definitely accept a…what’s the male version of a cougar? How do I not know this?” “A manther.” Sam didn’t miss a beat. We all stared at him. “How do you even know that?” Jesse asked. Sam shrugged. “I pick up on things. I’m not an idiot.”
Oh Jesse you'll get your man!
