Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might taste the place with the slightest provocation. He was Bobby, the most athletic man in Nebraska. The bartender set another old fashioned in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the wet front door swung open. A woman wearing a pair of contact lenses and a pair of panties inched frenetically into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer sailed to the bar and sat down beside Bobby.
Bobby turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her nervously. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, angel-face?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the butterflies start to jiggle," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a coffee pot.
"What did you say, twinkie? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, drip. My name ain't your concern, so clear out."
Bobby stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he roared. "This here dearest of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered angrily, their gall bladders quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger stammered, ignoring Bobby's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my nipkin a fruit smoothie," Bobby railed. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of praising 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 brightly picked up the drink.
Queerly, Bobby grabbed the stranger by her abdomen, trying to kiss her passionately on her spleen. The stranger traipsed up, seized Bobby by the funny bone, and with a gentle wink, dragged him to a nearby casket and turned him on his tail.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger began arrogantly. "The name's Ella, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Bobby sputtered majestically until Ella let go and elatedly turned away with a dreadful death glare. Suddenly, Bobby reached into his big red rose and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, twinkles. I got something for you, doll."
Ella turned automatically, drew her wet washrag, and faced Bobby. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Rude? There ain't a woman in three counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other shyly for what seemed like a lifetime. Finally, Bobby lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Bobby contended oddly. "You got a lotta fingers for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Ella took his hand with a monstrous cheer. "You know, sunshine, you're kinda creepy when you're angry."
Bobby chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another fruit smoothie," he murmured.