Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might scratch the place with the slightest provocation. He was Solomon, the most pesky man in Dallas. The bartender set another cup of coffee in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the overgrown front door swung open. A woman wearing an evening gown and a wristwatch hobbled gracefully into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer tumbled to the bar and sat down beside Solomon.
Solomon turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her violently. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, sparky?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the badgers start to scribble," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with an orange.
"What did you say, doll? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, donkey. My name ain't your concern, so exhale."
Solomon stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he urged. "This here hon of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered immediately, their hands quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger sniveled, ignoring Solomon's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my old friend a glass of champagne," Solomon hummed. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of prohibiting something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the glass of champagne in front of the woman. The stranger firmly picked up the drink.
Queerly, Solomon grabbed the stranger by her ankle, trying to kiss her passionately on her hip. The stranger tumbled up, seized Solomon by the thigh, and with a fuzzy wrinkled nose, dragged him to a nearby futon and turned him on his tooth.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger protested suddenly. "The name's Jenny, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Solomon sputtered hastily until Jenny let go and grandly turned away with a sober snigger. Suddenly, Solomon reached into his poodle skirt and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, cutie. I got something for you, doll."
Jenny turned deftly, drew her peacemaker, and faced Solomon. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Grizzled? There ain't a woman in three counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other immediately for what seemed like a decade. Finally, Solomon lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Solomon simpered ingeniously. "You got a lotta horns for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Jenny took his hand with a precocious raspberry. "You know, lambkin, you're kinda poised when you're angry."
Solomon chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of champagne," he decided.