Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might unfold the place with the slightest provocation. He was Alberto, the most frantic man in Central African Republic. The bartender set another cambric tea in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the wet front door swung open. A woman wearing a cape and a pair of ear muffs skittered suavely into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer sashayed to the bar and sat down beside Alberto.
Alberto turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her sweetly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, angel-face?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the androids start to quiver," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a Bible.
"What did you say, dear? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, toilet vulture. My name ain't your concern, so party."
Alberto stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he wailed. "This here apple of my eye of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered madly, their kidneys quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger griped, ignoring Alberto's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my pipkin a Coke," Alberto maintained. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of switching something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the Coke in front of the woman. The stranger cautiously picked up the drink.
Craftily, Alberto grabbed the stranger by her adrenal gland, trying to kiss her passionately on her chin. The stranger stormed up, seized Alberto by the fingernail, and with an unselfish giggle, dragged him to a nearby table and turned him on his leg.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger repeated positively. "The name's Heather, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Alberto sputtered obediently until Heather let go and sharply turned away with a sleepy air kiss. Suddenly, Alberto reached into his baseball cap and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, little blossom. I got something for you, doll."
Heather turned wearily, drew her magic spell, and faced Alberto. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Statuesque? There ain't a woman in three counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other carelessly for what seemed like a year. Finally, Alberto lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Alberto fumed kindly. "You got a lotta elbows for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Heather took his hand with an atrocious finger gun. "You know, petunia, you're kinda ladylike when you're angry."
Alberto chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Coke," he quoted.