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The ALBATROSS
April 1983

I'm a gentleman who just can't seem to attract the ladies. Even though I dress up in my best pink-orange-and­-green tunic, even though I take a bath every month, and even though I, drink like an elephant to give myself confidence, I never get a favorable response from the fair sex. It's really disheartening to get rejected even after my best lines, like: "Your pavilion or yours?" and "Let me show you my best weapon, the one without duct tape," and "We don't need any marshals for this melee." What am I going to do? I would be at my wit's end, if I had one. I'm so deprived and frustrated, I make an alpenhorn look like a toy bugle. Please advise.

-- Climbing the Walls.

Dear Alpenhorn,

I would admit that this is one of the most difficult pleas I have ever received, except that the answer is right here at hand. Yours is a familiar problem, and a special organization was formed years ago to deal with precisely your sort of emergency. I refer, of course, to the Ladies of the Bog.

You probably thought that this, the Courtesans Guild of the Province of Southern Shoals, was merely a rumor or a figment of the populace's overheated imagination. No so, armor-breath! The Ladies always stand (actually, the posi­tion is negotiable) ready to assist any lord who fen would start sumpin'. You don't even have to provide the domicile: they have all the right locales, includ­ing quickies and swamp-tuous digs. In case you are an endurance champion, you might want to ask for a Lady of the Re-Peat Bog. Suitably encouraged by the transfer of bank notes, small elegant gems, large flashy gems, or deeds to the castle, a Lady of the Bog will be more than happy to do your bidding, although why you would want one for help in a bridge game I do not know. Many of these ladies lead a hand-to-mouth existence, so please be generous. One unfortunate problem is that the Ladies are seasonal. Oops, their big event of the year, Marsh Crown, has just passed. You may simply have to hang on until next year. But until then,  remember their motto: "Morass!"

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