He walked into the French café I was sitting in.
I was brainstorming blog posts while sipping an iced coffee and enjoying an almond cookie.
He looked to be about 25 years old, and was probably a graduate student from the nearby university.
That’s what his t-shirt said.
I got the BRILLIANT idea to tease/flirt with him.
He sat down at the table across from mine.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” I said when I caught his eye.
“Excuse me?” he asked obviously confused.
“It’s a joke,” I said. “Your shirt. . . Mr. Right. . . ”
He gave me a quizzical look, straightened up in his chair, and stretched his shirt out for me to see.
Not “Mr. Right.”
Cougar needs some glasses.