The Cow nodded sagely. Enlightenment was still many incarnations away for bovines, but she could sympathise with the [identity deleted]'s frustration. Particularly when he complained about the whole department having to witness the spectacle of Rottweiler Rita having carnal relations with some student in her car in the parking lot. Which, the Cow mused, might have something to do with the rapid inflation of parking fees of late. She wondered if "parking" fees would also one day be charged for the stairs next to her office, which - since the closure of the study area in the Library - had become one of the few areas left for such pursuits.
But she was intrigued that Rottweiler Rita was engaging with such young material in her pursuit of carnal bliss. The [identity deleted] seemed to find it all in order - younger men sought quantity, and older women - well, quality only became an issue if one was in a position to exercise choice.
"But that's the fallacy!" explained the Cow. "Younger men think older women will be grateful. They're not, they're critical. They know what they want, and the chances of something just out of nappies providing it is remote!"
The [identity deleted] shrugged. By that time, the younger man has moved on to the next conquest, the previous one forgotten. "Not so!" argued the Cow. Had he, as a man, never experienced the scarring of a critical woman at some impressionable age? It appeared not.
The Cow went off and mulled over that. She'd always wondered who provided the experience that the 20year old men gleaned to allow them to enter their 30s and beyond as less inept than their 20year old incarnations, and now she realised that there were Rottweiler Ritas out there doing their altruistic best to upskill the youth.
Perhaps, for this noble activity alone, Rottweiler Rita had earned her ascension?