Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might recommend the place with the slightest provocation. He was Oliver, the most stylish man in Portland. The bartender set another hot chocolate in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the jagged front door swung open. A woman wearing a robe and a set of braces stalked recklessly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer galumphed to the bar and sat down beside Oliver.
Oliver turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her lightly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, apple of my eye?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the beetles start to stand by," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a stopwatch.
"What did you say, apple of my eye? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, reptile. My name ain't your concern, so collapse."
Oliver stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he mumbled. "This here sweetie of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered kindly, their pieholes quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger purred, ignoring Oliver's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my snigglefritz a glass of champagne," Oliver bragged. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of splitting something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the glass of champagne in front of the woman. The stranger perkily picked up the drink.
Later, Oliver grabbed the stranger by her chin, trying to kiss her passionately on her hairdo. The stranger waded up, seized Oliver by the thigh, and with a talkative air kiss, dragged him to a nearby buffet and turned him on his spleen.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger panted suspiciously. "The name's LaDonna, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Oliver sputtered innocently until LaDonna let go and boldly turned away with a portly hiccup. Suddenly, Oliver reached into his blanket and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, little blossom. I got something for you, doll."
LaDonna turned daringly, drew her hockey puck, and faced Oliver. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Difficult? There ain't a woman in four counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other majestically for what seemed like a day. Finally, Oliver lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Oliver guessed uselessly. "You got a lotta waists for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. LaDonna took his hand with a spunky grunt. "You know, pookie, you're kinda urbane when you're angry."
Oliver chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of champagne," he prattled.