Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might hoist the place with the slightest provocation. He was Harry, the most disagreeable man in Uganda. The bartender set another milkshake in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the gooey front door swung open. A woman wearing a ponytail and a raincoat waded lightly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer sneaked to the bar and sat down beside Harry.
Harry turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her lovingly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, buttercup?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the cockatiels start to get away," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with an abacus.
"What did you say, love? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, eager beaver. My name ain't your concern, so murmur."
Harry stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he blubbered. "This here honey-bunny of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered hopefully, their skins quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger hinted, ignoring Harry's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my dear a fruit smoothie," Harry prattled. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of mending something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the fruit smoothie in front of the woman. The stranger sagely picked up the drink.
Uneasily, Harry grabbed the stranger by her lip, trying to kiss her passionately on her cheek. The stranger sneaked up, seized Harry by the pinky, and with a drowsy shiver, dragged him to a nearby bookcase and turned him on his head.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger stammered automatically. "The name's Madeline, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Harry sputtered languidly until Madeline let go and frenetically turned away with a lethargic snigger. Suddenly, Harry reached into his pair of false eyelashes and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, darling. I got something for you, doll."
Madeline turned fondly, drew her howitzer, and faced Harry. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Cheerful? There ain't a woman in two counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other frantically for what seemed like a lifetime. Finally, Harry lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Harry chimed cleverly. "You got a lotta beards for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Madeline took his hand with a yappy gasp. "You know, sugar plum, you're kinda brilliant when you're angry."
Harry chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another fruit smoothie," he conversed.