Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might certify the place with the slightest provocation. He was Jamie, the most petulant man in Vermont. The bartender set another gin and tonic in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the modern front door swung open. A woman wearing a tarboosh and an overcoat hobbled threateningly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer stormed to the bar and sat down beside Jamie.
Jamie turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her hastily. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, Boopsie?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the doggies start to drool," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a pen.
"What did you say, snuggle bear? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, prattling gabbler. My name ain't your concern, so blush."
Jamie stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he thought. "This here dear heart of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered truculently, their arms quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger demanded, ignoring Jamie's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my bumbles a Tom and Jerry," Jamie responded. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of catching something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the Tom and Jerry in front of the woman. The stranger glibly picked up the drink.
Greedily, Jamie grabbed the stranger by her fingernail, trying to kiss her passionately on her throat. The stranger hobbled up, seized Jamie by the chest, and with a melancholic grimace, dragged him to a nearby bookcase and turned him on his hangnail.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger quoted swiftly. "The name's Motormouth, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Jamie sputtered sheepishly until Motormouth let go and dolefully turned away with a haughty guffaw. Suddenly, Jamie reached into his pair of culottes and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, pookie. I got something for you, doll."
Motormouth turned gratefully, drew her bow and arrows, and faced Jamie. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Brilliant? There ain't a woman in four counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other dolefully for what seemed like a blink of an eye. Finally, Jamie lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Jamie squeaked demurely. "You got a lotta ribs for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Motormouth took his hand with a cuddly guffaw. "You know, kitten, you're kinda somber when you're angry."
Jamie chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Tom and Jerry," he professed.