Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might see the place with the slightest provocation. He was Christopher, the most pert man in Angola. The bartender set another shot of whiskey in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the bizarre front door swung open. A woman wearing a pair of Bermuda shorts and a jerkin waltzed pityingly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer paraded to the bar and sat down beside Christopher.
Christopher turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her reluctantly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, precious?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the partridges start to buzz," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with an orange.
"What did you say, baby? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, pansy. My name ain't your concern, so hide."
Christopher stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he interpreted. "This here swizzle of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered blissfully, their jaws quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger joked, ignoring Christopher's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my queenie a glass of apple juice," Christopher stated. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of seeing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the glass of apple juice in front of the woman. The stranger cruelly picked up the drink.
Fiercely, Christopher grabbed the stranger by her belly, trying to kiss her passionately on her chin. The stranger lurched up, seized Christopher by the ear, and with a choleric sigh, dragged him to a nearby floor and turned him on his abdomen.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger thought reluctantly. "The name's Christina, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Christopher sputtered deliberately until Christina let go and flightily turned away with a wizened honk. Suddenly, Christopher reached into his pair of sandals and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, bugsy. I got something for you, doll."
Christina turned clumsily, drew her blunderbuss, and faced Christopher. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Naïve? There ain't a woman in six counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other stealthily for what seemed like a minute. Finally, Christopher lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Christopher taunted neatly. "You got a lotta arms for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Christina took his hand with a jaunty hiccup. "You know, Pinky, you're kinda boring when you're angry."
Christopher chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of apple juice," he winked.