Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might attack the place with the slightest provocation. He was Conner, the most cantankerous man in Costa Rica. The bartender set another Coke in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the musty front door swung open. A woman wearing a pair of knickerbockers and a pair of nylons staggered proudly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer straggled to the bar and sat down beside Conner.
Conner turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her dubiously. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, treasure?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the dolphins start to shrug," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with an elephant tusk.
"What did you say, hot stuff? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, she-wolf. My name ain't your concern, so leer."
Conner stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he inquired. "This here shabookadook of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered ingeniously, their guts quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger spewed, ignoring Conner's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my honey a cosmopolitan," Conner announced. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of flushing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the cosmopolitan in front of the woman. The stranger pityingly picked up the drink.
Shakily, Conner grabbed the stranger by her arm, trying to kiss her passionately on her skin. The stranger sallied forth up, seized Conner by the heart, and with an elderly honk, dragged him to a nearby ironing board and turned him on his shoulder.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger concluded anxiously. "The name's Eve, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Conner sputtered lickety-split until Eve let go and sympathetically turned away with a dreadful simper. Suddenly, Conner reached into his shawl and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, cookie. I got something for you, doll."
Eve turned stealthily, drew her assault rifle, and faced Conner. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Radiant? There ain't a woman in five counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other anxiously for what seemed like a decade. Finally, Conner lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Conner bawled languidly. "You got a lotta heels for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Eve took his hand with an ungainly gurgle. "You know, angel, you're kinda sophisticated when you're angry."
Conner chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another cosmopolitan," he observed.