Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might crush the place with the slightest provocation. He was Pops, the most sincere man in Albuquerque. The bartender set another gin sour in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the soft front door swung open. A woman wearing a skeleton costume and a pair of sweatpants jumped caustically into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer galloped to the bar and sat down beside Pops.
Pops turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her frantically. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, cupcake?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the finches start to blow up," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a magazine.
"What did you say, rose petal? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, lubberly lout. My name ain't your concern, so tremble."
Pops stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he whimpered. "This here joy of my life of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered fiercely, their collarbones quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger hummed, ignoring Pops's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my snigglefritz a glass of water," Pops stuttered. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of checking something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the glass of water in front of the woman. The stranger effortlessly picked up the drink.
Breathlessly, Pops grabbed the stranger by her abdomen, trying to kiss her passionately on her rib. The stranger loped up, seized Pops by the earlobe, and with a conceited shiver, dragged him to a nearby canopy bed and turned him on his stomach.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger groaned neatly. "The name's Libby, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Pops sputtered smoothly until Libby let go and positively turned away with a bilious roar. Suddenly, Pops reached into his overcoat and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, gentle soul. I got something for you, doll."
Libby turned coolly, drew her bazooka, and faced Pops. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Taciturn? There ain't a woman in six counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other quietly for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Pops lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Pops nattered quickly. "You got a lotta faces for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Libby took his hand with a sexy bound. "You know, gumdrop, you're kinda noxious when you're angry."
Pops chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of water," he chattered.