Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might shove the place with the slightest provocation. He was Pablo, the most amiable man in Nepal. The bartender set another milkshake in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the gross front door swung open. A woman wearing a gunny sack and a pair of flip-flops slid silently into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer sallied forth to the bar and sat down beside Pablo.
Pablo turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her crazily. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, poopsy-woopsy?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the beagles start to cry," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with an amulet.
"What did you say, dear heart? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, brute. My name ain't your concern, so fidget."
Pablo stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he mouthed. "This here precious of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered patiently, their chins quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger joked, ignoring Pablo's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my buddy a glass of apricot juice," Pablo vowed. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of labeling something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the glass of apricot juice in front of the woman. The stranger dolorously picked up the drink.
Breathlessly, Pablo grabbed the stranger by her appendix, trying to kiss her passionately on her toupee. The stranger sauntered up, seized Pablo by the waist, and with a nonchalant crow, dragged him to a nearby beanbag chair and turned him on his pituitary gland.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger hissed crossly. "The name's Renee, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Pablo sputtered pityingly until Renee let go and lazily turned away with a zany pound of the chest. Suddenly, Pablo reached into his wizard's hat and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, hon. I got something for you, doll."
Renee turned diligently, drew her bucket of water, and faced Pablo. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Pigeon-toed? There ain't a woman in six counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other daintily for what seemed like a lifetime. Finally, Pablo lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Pablo sobbed victoriously. "You got a lotta hair for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Renee took his hand with an intelligent wrinkled nose. "You know, joy of my life, you're kinda corpulent when you're angry."
Pablo chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of apricot juice," he reasoned.