Chalk it up to cougarism. I don't know what it is. I've noticed that lately anyone under the age of 40 is incredibly good-looking. Not just the boys either. Most of the women and men in the 20-40 age range are stunning. I mean this in the kindest of ways. It's not a sexual thing. It just seems like young people are really beautiful. I'm being totally superficial and shallow and akin to my male counterparts, but it seems like I'm attracted to beauty everywhere.
Our family got off the Rogue river and one of our traditions is to get soft serve ice cream at the Galice store. It is also a tradition to stop at the local Dutch Brother's coffee cart and get an ice cold "Kicker" which is coffee and cream and ice and some sort of torani flavoring. We decided to forego the softserve and go straight for the coffee place because they have milkshakes and Zoe wanted chocolate, unavailable at our usual ice cream stop.
So we pull in to the drive-thru, with our 4-day scruffiness and all our river toys tied down to the trailer behind us. Standing at the drive-thru window is this young, scrawny, 20-something with long dark hair and maybe 3-4 days of facial hair growth popular among the metrosexual set these days.
"Hey guys! What can I get for you?"
"A hotel room?" I whisper to my husband. He laughs. We place our order for as many coffee drinks as we can possibly drink and for as long as I can stand to watch this kid make them.
"Holy crap that guy is cute," I exclaim.
"MOM!!" Screaming from the back of our truck camper, my 13 year-old shares her disgust.
"What? He's cute! Where's the harm in that?"
I can't help but wonder how old he is. I'm convinced I'm going to hell because I'm probably old enough to be his mother.
"You're probably old enough to be his mother," my husband says, smiling his sexy smile, and overcompensating for his dirtbaggedness.
"Thanks Honey, love you too. If you play your cards right, you might be able to ride this kid's wave later."
My husband looks hopeful and decides that allowing me to live out my little, coffee guy fantasy is probably a good idea. More coffee drinks.
I wondered if our Dutch Bros. Barista would object to letting me take his picture.
"MOM! NO!" screams the 13 year-old from the back. I roll my eyes. Meanwhile, my eleven year-old sees no problem with my obvious departure from decorum. My kids both know that I am not cut from the same mold as most moms. I drive fast, swear respectfully, and admire youthful beauty without acting inappropriately, all of which are important lessons for young girls to learn early along with changing truck tires and starting a campfire, on the first try. They both know I have no filter or inhibition and fear the possibilities of what I am capable of.
"Have you forgotten that you are married?" interrogates my oldest.
"Nope!" I proclaim with a smile and a wink. The only difference between being married and not being married when you run into a cute guy, is if you're married, you're already guaranteed to end up with the cutest guy in the room.
More laughs from my husband as we try to ascertain cute guy's age. He asks us where we are from, if we are coming from or going to the river, how our trip was etc. My husband digs into his story. He met his girlfriend in college, (whew, he's at least 22! Maybe I won't go to hell!) and moved from big city, hometown to po-dunk, Oregon to be with her. He had a pretty smile. There is something about a long-haired kid with a twinkle in his eye and a winning smile that gets me everytime. It reminds me of a guy I met about 23 years ago, full of love and sparkle with his whole life ahead of him.
I just so happened to be sitting right next to him, except he's 23 years older, a little grayer and knows me far more than I'd like to admit. As I swooned over my 20-something coffee guy, and overanalyzed my husband's elderly features, it dawned on me that I, too, am not the 20-something girl on the outside. In fact, I shuddered to think that had I been properly introduced to cute, coffee guy, he may have called me "Mrs. Robinson." Because that is actually my name. Oh the irony.
"Whipped cream on that?"
"Uh-huh," I nodded. Whipped cream on everything please. (I never order whipped cream.....)
"Okay, that'll be $37.95. Would you guys like a carrier for all these?"
"That's probably a good idea."
We drove away with more caffeine to keep us awake for a week and I lamented that my temporary fantasy had come to an end. While I was still going home with the hottest guy in town (a known commodity on all fronts), I couldn't help but wonder if coffee guy was really that cute or if my mid-life crisis is messing with my head.
I am still wishing I had taken his picture.
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