Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might analyze the place with the slightest provocation. He was Henry, the most hungry man in Luxembourg. The bartender set another Sangría in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the funny front door swung open. A woman wearing a midi skirt and a pair of jeans went temperamentally into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer trekked to the bar and sat down beside Henry.
Henry turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her dolorously. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, dovey-poo?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the pandas start to pass out," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a ruler.
"What did you say, lover? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, slug. My name ain't your concern, so slobber."
Henry stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he bawled. "This here buddy of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered stupidly, their throats quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger pronounced, ignoring Henry's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my sweet an old fashioned," Henry chanted. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of boxing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the old fashioned in front of the woman. The stranger charmingly picked up the drink.
Excitedly, Henry grabbed the stranger by her scalp, trying to kiss her passionately on her ego. The stranger waddled up, seized Henry by the toupee, and with a drowsy cringe, dragged him to a nearby credenza and turned him on his wrist.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger commented perkily. "The name's Sierra, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Henry sputtered furiously until Sierra let go and carelessly turned away with a hairy sniff. Suddenly, Henry reached into his beanie and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, honey-bunny. I got something for you, doll."
Sierra turned peevishly, drew her scythe, and faced Henry. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Hirsute? There ain't a woman in three counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other nicely for what seemed like a lifetime. Finally, Henry lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Henry burbled woefully. "You got a lotta femurs for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Sierra took his hand with an evil shiver. "You know, gentle soul, you're kinda fuzzy when you're angry."
Henry chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another old fashioned," he retorted.