And yet, not all cubbing goes so smoothly. From your first unexpected cub pounce to housing your cub in the Cub Club and then to the possibility of walking down the aisle—look at you with your younger husband—there are lots of horrifying pitfalls along the way. Like: what if you wake up with a cub at “his” house and it turns out you know his parents?
Oops. This nearly happened to Tilda Tia a month ago.
You don’t want it to happen to you.
La Cubbette—C’est Vous
What’s tricky about this cubbing phenomenon is that it can happen to any woman, even a woman who has never considered the idea of being with a younger man.
Take Kitty. All her life, she’s been attracted to older men. Ten, fifteen, even twenty years older, like her soon-to-be ex-husband. “I like men who are intelligent. Who have something to say. I can’t imagine finding that in a twenty-five-year-old.”
Little did we know how quickly she’d change her mind.
It happened at a small birthday party for one of Kitty’s still-married friends. This married friend, Alison, was someone Kitty had spent a lot of time with when she was married. She was also one of the few friends from Kitty’s former married life who still invited her to parties.
After six months, Kitty was beginning to realize that all those nasty things people told you about being sectionorced were true: friends took sides and you kept hearing about gatherings you were no longer invited to.
At the party, Kitty tried to reassure these still-married couples that she was okay and doing fine. They tried to reassure her, too. The men took her aside and told her that they’d always thought her ex-husband was a jerk, while the women crowded around her in the kitchen and told her she would find someone better.
During dinner, the talk once again turned to Kitty and her new relationship status. There was lots of clueless married talk about online dating and whether or not it worked and whether or not Kitty should try it.
Kitty found herself getting more and more depressed. She was trying to figure out if there was any way she could leave the dinner before the birthday cake was served. She could claim a sudden stomach bug or other vague illness, maybe even cry that something had happened to her dog—when suddenly the door opened and a posse of young twentysomething guys came through the door.
This sudden injection of male hormones was like heroin hitting the mainframe. The atmosphere immediately changed. It became lively. The middle-aged folks sat up a little straighter, their conversation became more pointed and jovial and even louder.
It was as if the adults were suddenly vying for the attention of the young men.
Kitty quickly surmised that the shorter cute one was Alison’s now twenty-three-year-old son, Mason, whom she hadn’t seen since he was about twelve. The other guys were Mason’s friends. Not wanting to interrupt the parents, they bade their goodbyes and said they were going to hang out downstairs in the finished basement.
The adults moved into the living room. The talk turned to vacations, a meaningless pursuit that Kitty could no longer afford. She kept glancing toward the open door, wondering how to make her escape. It was during one of these glances that she spotted Mason and two of his buddies slithering by on their way into the kitchen.
Kitty cleared her throat and laughed politely. She put down her espresso in its ungainly cup and stood up. She’d made it halfway to the door when the host noticed. He must have once been handsome or hottish. But he wasn’t now.
“Kitty,” he demanded, with an inappropriate note of male authority she hadn’t heard from him before, as if now that she were single, he somehow had dominion over her. “Where are you going?” he asked.
“Bathroom,” Kitty said.
She headed toward it but kept right on going when she realized she could get to the kitchen with no one in the living room being the wiser.
She went for it.
“Hey,” Mason said.
“Sorry,” Kitty said. “I was just looking for some water.”
The hottest one—the tall one with the swooping dark hair—smiled at her politely and, looking her right in the eye, said, “I’ll help you.”
He opened the refrigerator, removed a Fiji water, and handed it to her.
Kitty paused. “What I’d really like is a shot of tequila,” she said.
There was dead silence, and then the guys laughed like they genuinely thought she was funny.
Mason said, “You’re the only fun one of my mom’s friends.”
And suddenly, Kitty began to feel better.
Why else would she agree to go downstairs?