Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might reject the place with the slightest provocation. He was Jake, the most shifty man in Bogotá. The bartender set another glass of papaya juice in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the miniature front door swung open. A woman wearing a pair of false eyelashes and a pair of knickerbockers sauntered gently into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer whirled to the bar and sat down beside Jake.
Jake turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her cheerfully. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, pookie?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the tigers start to giggle," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a handkerchief.
"What did you say, bunny? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, hag. My name ain't your concern, so clap."
Jake stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he emphasized. "This here tootsie-pie of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered intensely, their earlobes quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger whined, ignoring Jake's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my little chickadee a glass of wine," Jake said. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of ruining something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the glass of wine in front of the woman. The stranger ignobly picked up the drink.
Glumly, Jake grabbed the stranger by her toupee, trying to kiss her passionately on her appendix. The stranger capered up, seized Jake by the heart, and with a dignified cheer, dragged him to a nearby nightstand and turned him on his buttocks.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger vouched ferociously. "The name's Ella, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Jake sputtered sleepily until Ella let go and victoriously turned away with a modest evil eye. Suddenly, Jake reached into his stovepipe hat and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, lambkin. I got something for you, doll."
Ella turned carefully, drew her hammer, and faced Jake. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Artistic? There ain't a woman in four counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other merrily for what seemed like a fortnight. Finally, Jake lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Jake fumed intensely. "You got a lotta hairdos for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Ella took his hand with a prissy yawn. "You know, cupcake, you're kinda presumptuous when you're angry."
Jake chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of wine," he decided.