Littlewood succeeds in getting Faust's number, but soon she's walled off by a gaggle of younger men. After years of getting cougared, he's now getting cubbed. "They were sleazy, as far as I'm concerned," he says. Six foot three and tanned from hours on his motorbike, he is no different from the guy with the Rod Blagojevich hair or the geeks from the video-game company who got excited about "Cougar Con" because they hoped to get some precious female attention after paying $20 night after night to get blown off in clubs.

In the end, Littlewood goes home alone. It's not so much the empty bed that troubles him as the possibility that he may not see Faust again. "When I came back from the convention," he says, "I thought it was cool and fun, but gosh, you know, I think I'm in the mood for a relationship. That's the first time I've said that."

The next day, at Home Depot, his cell phone rings. It's Faust. She wants to say hi and ask him for his birth date. She'd like to consult her compatibility chart. Moments later, Faust gets a call from her mom, and Littlewood tells her to take it.

"What did the chart say?" he texts her. "Are we compatible?"

She writes him back. "No."

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