Bobcats replacing Cougars in SF?

Just got back from San Francisco (which I miss desperately and want to move back to so badly!). Right now is a great time to visit...sales everywhere. I'm going broke saving money. Walked by Wilkes Bashford...the bastion of "the city's" elite and they had a big sign out front saying "Warehouse Sale," almost like a garage sale! I had no idea what this sale was all about but for a shopaholic like me it was like waving whisky in front of an alcoholic.
When I walked in the front door, I smiled at the doorman and asked where the sale was taking place. He directed me around the corner to the elevator and I while I waited, I heard him joking with an employee about cougars versus bobcasts. (Apparantly bobcats are women in their 30's preying on younger men while cougars are in their 40's.) Since I'm 51 I dared hope they were talking about me. I had on a couture dress (from a sample sale) but paired with my Keen walking shoes, I knew it had the same effect as pumps.
After I perused the sale on the 5th floor-they had signs for $10 jeans and $20 skirts, but the good stuff was gone. Not one to admit defeat, I managed to find a cashmere blood-red T for only $20! Sold! Especially since I got the famous orange bag. The saleswoman told me I was missing out by not looking at the dresses marked down to "only" $300, but since I had already lusted after the discounted cashmere robes (a mere $800) I grabbed my credit card and ran down the stairs while my willpower was intact, only to find..
the famous Willie Brown, former state assemblymember and mayor of San Francisco, talking to his good buddy, Wilkes Bashford himself. Wilkes looked despondent, standing alone by the bar, but I followed Willie downstairs to the gifts and he was his usual cheerful self, saying well, hello, in his tenor tone. Later I thought about telling him how much I enjoyed his column in the SF Chronicle, about how I met my husband the night I saw Willie walk in to a bar with a blonde on each arm in the Bermuda Triangle, (the name for a corner with three bars in between Union and Chestnut Streets where singles were known to disappear forever), but all I could manage was hi.
I left with my red top, orange bag and fervernt wishes of returning to SF. Maybe it's just my youth I want back...or maybe I think moving back will return me my carefree days. Of course memories always cancel out the dark days I worried about paying rent and how I was underutilized in my job, but those months when my sister and I went out partying and I juggled three boyfriends at once are priceless.