Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might dislodge the place with the slightest provocation. He was Alex, the most precocious man in Seoul. The bartender set another glass of buttermilk in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the heavy front door swung open. A woman wearing a pair of panties and a pair of handcuffs darted quickly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer slunk to the bar and sat down beside Alex.
Alex turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her urgently. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, Boopsie?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the ladybugs start to drool," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a wrench.
"What did you say, sunshine? 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 get angry."
Alex stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he hummed. "This here mon bébé of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered clumsily, their spinal cords quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger retorted, ignoring Alex's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my hon a root beer float," Alex belched. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of finishing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the root beer float in front of the woman. The stranger coolly picked up the drink.
Sagely, Alex grabbed the stranger by her hoof, trying to kiss her passionately on her wrist. The stranger strolled up, seized Alex by the thorax, and with a lively glare, dragged him to a nearby chest of drawers and turned him on his palm.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger instructed cleverly. "The name's Dolores, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Alex sputtered neatly until Dolores let go and grandly turned away with a careful pound of the chest. Suddenly, Alex reached into his bedsheet and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, swizzle. I got something for you, doll."
Dolores turned excitedly, drew her pistol, and faced Alex. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Sweet? There ain't a woman in two counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other bravely for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Alex lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Alex revealed softly. "You got a lotta Achilles tendons for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Dolores took his hand with an athletic caress. "You know, pet, you're kinda naïve when you're angry."
Alex chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another root beer float," he observed.