When my wife and I were pondering our options for Valentine’s Day, we decided Virtù warranted a return visit. A chocolate-themed menu and a four block walk to/from the restaurant were rather appealing factors, especially since we’ve been enjoying unseasonably warm weather of late.

Service can still be something of an issue at Virtù, but this was one of those evenings when the gods smiled upon us, so no complaints there… Rather it was the table of cougars we had the misfortune of being within earshot of who warranted a healthy dose of derision from yours truly.

I heard the clip, clop, clip, clop, clip, clop of tiny hooves, (read “six inch stiletto pumps”), on flagstone before the first of the pride came into view…

Three were dressed in what is “Valentine’s Day” red and two in – what else – but black. Three were bleached blonde, one was brunette and one with hair as black as a raven, but, trust me, none of it was natural. Each was sporting what had to be $100 worth of paint, er, uh, I mean makeup and $300 coifs from CARSTEN cas-ca-ca-ca-daded down to their shoulders.

The obligatory red rose was doled out as each was seated, then one exclaimed “…we’re all safe for one more week!” Really? OMG, safe from what?!

I think we were enjoying our champagne and amuse-bouche about the time the troupe arrived, and, as I feared, it didn’t take long for the conversation to gravitate toward who’s dating whom, sharp, but nonetheless petty, jabs at gym buddies and impressively thorough recollections of what each was wearing the first time they met… Look, it wasn’t as if we were eavesdropping – that gentle breeze was blowing toward us, so other than giving up our totally cherry two-top, (and that wasn’t going to happen), we were in for the long haul.

Here’s but a tiny sample of the insipid chatter we endured throughout the evening:

“…I know!  She was all up in the mirror fixing her extensions while the rest of us were sweating our asses off. I mean, c’mon girl get into the moment!” Apparently, one must look their very best at the gym, and at all times.

“He’s so right physically, but so sterile emotionally! Yikes!

“I remember the first time I saw you…” followed by an exhaustive recounting of every piece of clothing the other one was wearing followed by “…and the next time you were wearing…” Rinse and repeat. Christ, I was ready to stick forks in my eyes at this point.

“Ooooh, you’re an interior designer – you really should help me with my house! I mean I have some ideas, but it’s just not my thing.” I glanced up to see jazz hands waving while this one was ticking off how many televisions were at home – apparently she’s got more flat screens than sense, but then again I could be wrong…

Oh, and by the way, interior designers have college degrees and interior decorators have tanning salon memberships.

“I took my kids and I bounced…” I’ll say – bounced right to the attorney’s office and filed for divorce!

Are you familiar with the irritating speaking habit referred to as uptalk? If not, educate yourself, then promise me you won’t ever, ever, ever, do it.

“I don’t want anybody to see my den. It’s full of sh*t.” My sympathies for her male friend(s) with benefits – so much for scoring that man cave you were dreaming about…

What’s with the phrase “….but it’s not todaaaaay!” I must’ve heard it belted out eight or nine times in the space of 90 minutes – seemed to be commonly understood among the pride, but alas, I remain clueless. Predator. Prey. Pray.

“I’m making myself available on Monday.” [pause] “…and on Tuesday and on Wednesday, and…” [giggle]

Way, way, way too many tiresome references to the Arcadia district in Phoenix, sigh…

“We went on a lunch date and I found all this out. I said ‘Let’s order marg[arita]s and head to the room.'” Ah, yes, the joys of swipe-left, swipe-right. …swipe, swipe, swipe!

…the entire table goes silent while shoveling the first course into those ruby, red-rimmed, ivory-ringed maws commences. Ahem and amen.

“…but I’m walking everywhere!” Sure, in February you are, but just wait ’til July!

ONE ADAM TWELVE, ONE ADAM TWELVE

Cougar #1 “OK, so one guy in my neighborhood is sitting outside in his boxers with a bumper sticker on his window that says ‘LITTLE ORPHAN ANNIE’!”
Table “Oooooooh! Ooooooh! Oooooooh!”
Cougar #3 “Get the HELL out of that lease!”

At least one is clearly – and I do mean clearly – divorced. …with a daughter. Dunno – mebbe it’s Emma. Of course it is.

“Do you watch ‘Housewives’?” Yeah, apparently I’m watching it right here on the patio at Virtù.

“There’s French service, Russian service, German service…” This teachable moment coming from the server assigned to the community table. Boy, is he working the table!

Cougar #2 “…and what was your name?” [to server]
Server “I never give it out.”
Cougar #4 “You’re married aren’t you?” [to server]

OK, so this guy is 42-45, widow’s peak, slight paunch and has ’em all eating out of the palm of his hand – priceless! Catnip, pure f**king catnip.

“I’m out in the courtyard and I see this guy. I mean I’m checking everything out. You can see everything – which way it’s dropping – everything!”

Eeewww. Natasha Grapefruit.

“Yeah, I talk with my hands too!” Oh sweet Jesus, when will this end?

“…so much ‘toe!” I don’t want to even think about this last one.

You might be asking yourself why in the world did some jerk curmudgeon write up this tawdry bit of tid? Here’s why – the Oscar-worthy performance this group of women put on, (and most assuredly not for our benefit), was more appropriate for a so-called singles bar, (or nightclub), in Scottsdale, not one of the more notable dining establishments, namely Virtù.

If I wanted to see – or in this case, be seen – wouldn’t it have made more sense to find the three-dimensional equivalent of Tinder? A place completely populated with like-minded men, (and women), who were more interested in seeing who would be crowned King and/or Queen of Snark for the night, before stumbling off – some in pairs, others [sadly] still flying solo – to create fodder for the next convergence of the cougars. Tragic. Not virtuous. No, not virtuous at all.