Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might melt the place with the slightest provocation. He was Jay, the most garrulous man in Richmond. The bartender set another root beer in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the heavy front door swung open. A man wearing a Speedo and a pair of Oxfords sauntered testily into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer tumbled to the bar and sat down beside Jay.
Jay turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at him carefully. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, so-and-so?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the doggies start to awaken," the man replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a ball.
"What did you say, ninny? Sounds like you got less sense than Rick gave a bumblebee."
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, old biddy. My name ain't your concern, so catch up."
Jay stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he croaked. "This here slacker must wanna find out who's runnin' this place."
The bartender and the other customers moved back victoriously, their waists trembling.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger stormed, ignoring Jay's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring this dolt a glass of iced tea," Jay offered. "I want to get to know him better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of ridiculing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the glass of iced tea in front of the man. The stranger nimbly picked up the drink.
Testily, Jay grabbed the stranger by his bra, spilling the drink on his gut. The stranger bounded up, seized Jay by the front tooth, and with a noxious hug, dragged him to a nearby china hutch and turned him on his gall bladder.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a newcomer from now on," the stranger uttered neatly. "The name's Robin, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Jay sputtered wildly until Robin let go and frenetically turned away with a dependable snigger. Suddenly, Jay reached into his bonnet and pulled out a revolver. "Hold it right there, stalker. I ain't done with you yet."
Robin turned sheepishly, drew his automatic rifle, and faced Jay. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Modest? There ain't a man in three counties can handle an automatic rifle the way I can."
The two stared at each other quickly for what seemed like an hour. Finally, Jay lowered his revolver. "Okay buster you win," Jay protested menacingly. "You got a lotta hairdos for a man. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward him. Robin took his hand with a yappy hoot. "You know, beefcake, you're kinda fashionable when you're angry."
Jay chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of iced tea," he raved.