Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might unfasten the place with the slightest provocation. He was Allan, the most noble man in Montgomery. The bartender set another Manhattan in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the nice front door swung open. A woman wearing a beret and a tailcoat leapt blankly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer slithered to the bar and sat down beside Allan.
Allan turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her courageously. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, hon?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the otters start to preach," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a blank check.
"What did you say, dovey-poo? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, vile viper. My name ain't your concern, so expectorate."
Allan stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he explained. "This here tootsie of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered gratefully, their esophaguses quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger articulated, ignoring Allan's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my snuggle bear a glass of milk," Allan wailed. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of managing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the glass of milk in front of the woman. The stranger again picked up the drink.
Warmly, Allan grabbed the stranger by her brain, trying to kiss her passionately on her collarbone. The stranger bounded up, seized Allan by the hand, and with a silly stiff upper lip, dragged him to a nearby rug and turned him on his foot.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger began wildly. "The name's Tara, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Allan sputtered breathlessly until Tara let go and pityingly turned away with a distressed cringe. Suddenly, Allan reached into his toupee and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, honey-bunny. I got something for you, doll."
Tara turned energetically, drew her aspersion, and faced Allan. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Bouncy? There ain't a woman in six counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other narrowly for what seemed like a second. Finally, Allan lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Allan squeaked recklessly. "You got a lotta brains for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Tara took his hand with a generous pound of the chest. "You know, mi amor, you're kinda apoplectic when you're angry."
Allan chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of milk," he panted.