The Return of The Cougar

The host looks worried. "Someone is asking for you," she winces. Her uncertainty for whoever is waiting to speak with me is... exciting.

Then, right behind the host, there she is. Her eye shadow screams for the help of a steady hand.

Cougs: "[NYCW], baby, here you are. Pop-pop Geno is on his way, baby. We're eatin' in tonight!" 

NYCW: "That's great! It's so nice to see you. Have a seat at the bar while I check out my tables... I'll see if any of my tables are open."

Backstory: If you're not familiar with the story of Pop-pop & The Cougar, please read it here. The basics: she's 64 years old and Pop-pop just turned 30 last month. His family owns the building Gucci rents on 5th Ave. The Cougar just cashed-in on her late-husband's life insurance policy. She has a lazy eye that is terribly distracting. One night a few weeks ago, this dynamic duo sat down in my section, and embarrassingly over-tipped me. My June rent still owes them a thank-you note.

Now, back to the Cougar's most recent visit.

Cougs: "I'll just sit here and wait for an open table then, baby. The meds won't let me drink alcohol before 6pm."

NYCW: smiles, runs away.

Fellow-servers are asking questions, involving colorful cuss words, mostly beginning with the letter "F". Managers are also asking questions, in the same manner. Everyone is judging this woman's ability to put on makeup. You can almost guess that people are positively correlating her ability to put on makeup with her lazy eye. This makes me smile.

I explain, quickly and quietly to as many servers that will listen. Clearly, I discover, NYCWaitress and her blogs are not yet viral. I'm okay with this. I tell the story of the big tip, the Gucci real estate, the Floridian catch. Servers are thrilled: the evening's entertainment is being provided, free of charge & tip-share.

Soon after, there's a new development: apparently the Cougar has taken off her bra while sitting at the bar. Please allow me to take this opportunity and plug the reputation of the TSQ restaurant I work in: a family-orientated, family-friendly, aka CHILDREN EVERYWHERE. Nearby tables are not happy to see this. Children are not happy to see this. I am giggling. This woman is outrageous.

Cougs: "I'll be back. Geno is picking me up in-style tonight. He's bringing his brothah. He's bringing him to meet you. He's family. You know. Family. You'll love 'im. I'm going to walk around downstairs. I have no [bleeping]-idea how I even found this restaurant again. I am out-of-my-mind right now (makes hand-sign that suggests drug use). We'll all meet here in a few hours at 9:30p."

NYCW: I smile. "Okay. Don't forget. See you then!" 

In short, she did not come back for supper. This was the return of the cougar, only to be filled with the false-promises of Pop-pop's brothah. Stay-tuned for the next sighting.

Can I help you with those barside bra-snaps, lady?