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Teenyboppers and other such nonsense

The Check-In Princess was out yesterday, so I was check-in today and yesterday both. Yesterday was dreadful. Today was a lot better, except my neck was still hurting.

Figment gave off a few cluons as to who the Mystery Chick who was hitting on him without subtlety, tact, or appropriateness might be. He's not the best at remembering any sort of useful physical description to point someone out to someone else, which is sort of how I am, only I have a better chance at remembering a physical descriptor of someone I really want to point out. I finally narrowed it down to one top suspect, and asked him to confirm or deny by seating assignment.

Figment confirmed.

I will be gentle with the daft little thing, and will not punt her into the next galaxy for daring to hit on My Bondmate. After all, she can't be much over eighteen, and my bondmate is nearing forty. And my bondmate has absolutely no interest in her -- the age difference is such (both mental and physical) that she doesn't even look old enough to be thinking about t3h s3xx0rs, much less anyone (like him) considering her for such. (She's not only young, but also absolutely tiny -- she's very short and very thin, and a catty comment was made by someone who was not me about her being able to blend in at an elementary school.)

If she were going about it in a more appropriate way, I might not disapprove so violently. But as she's utterly unsuited for Figment (he has observed so to me, so I'm going on his judgment) and has started making her move so badly (again, his assessment -- he doesn't usually react like that to something) that I shall have to make it entirely clear that the Alpha Bitch has prior claim.

Snaaa. Hiss.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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