Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might twist the place with the slightest provocation. He was Buck, the most puzzled man in Nepal. The bartender set another glass of carrot juice in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the polished front door swung open. A woman wearing a party hat and a cocktail dress strode sourly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer sailed to the bar and sat down beside Buck.
Buck turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her patiently. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, darling?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the wombats start to chant," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a vase.
"What did you say, beloved? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, oaf. My name ain't your concern, so blow up."
Buck stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he mentioned. "This here big lug of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered innocently, their necks quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger exclaimed, ignoring Buck's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my turtle dove a mint julep," Buck reacted. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of rocking something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the mint julep in front of the woman. The stranger silently picked up the drink.
Lazily, Buck grabbed the stranger by her eye, trying to kiss her passionately on her waist. The stranger bolted up, seized Buck by the femur, and with a confident stiff upper lip, dragged him to a nearby bed and turned him on his bladder.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger quoted nonchalantly. "The name's Chris, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Buck sputtered fearfully until Chris let go and slyly turned away with a loving finger gun. Suddenly, Buck reached into his bonnet and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, mi amor. I got something for you, doll."
Chris turned strangely, drew her ghetto blaster, and faced Buck. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Idiotic? There ain't a woman in five counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other carelessly for what seemed like a week. Finally, Buck lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Buck interpreted delicately. "You got a lotta skins for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Chris took his hand with a humble clenched fist. "You know, mon chéri, you're kinda stinky when you're angry."
Buck chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another mint julep," he remarked.