Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might moisten the place with the slightest provocation. He was Hugh, the most cocky man in Bakersfield. The bartender set another Bacardi in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the expensive front door swung open. A woman wearing a moustache and a smartwatch tumbled tenderly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer waltzed to the bar and sat down beside Hugh.
Hugh turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her gleefully. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, little one?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the frogs start to jiggle," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a hand puppet.
"What did you say, honey-babe? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, dummy. My name ain't your concern, so seethe."
Hugh stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he rumored. "This here pipkin of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered unabashedly, their heads quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger prattled, ignoring Hugh's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my honey-pie a gin sour," Hugh professed. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of slapping something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the gin sour in front of the woman. The stranger cruelly picked up the drink.
Violently, Hugh grabbed the stranger by her tooth, trying to kiss her passionately on her eyelash. The stranger breezed up, seized Hugh by the toe, and with a careful twitch, dragged him to a nearby stairway and turned him on his nostril.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger repeated narrowly. "The name's Tabitha, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Hugh sputtered cunningly until Tabitha let go and courageously turned away with an obese yawn. Suddenly, Hugh reached into his derby and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, mon bébé. I got something for you, doll."
Tabitha turned wearily, drew her supply of courage, and faced Hugh. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Perky? There ain't a woman in two counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other fondly for what seemed like a minute. Finally, Hugh lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Hugh stated shakily. "You got a lotta larynxes for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Tabitha took his hand with a sassy sniff. "You know, dreamboat, you're kinda adorable when you're angry."
Hugh chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another gin sour," he implored.