Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might clamp the place with the slightest provocation. He was Everett, the most spunky man in Bogotá. The bartender set another shot of whiskey in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the fuzzy front door swung open. A woman wearing a gas mask and a heavy layer of makeup hopped hungrily into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer strode to the bar and sat down beside Everett.
Everett turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her accidentally. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, beloved?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the German Shepherds start to swear," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a chair.
"What did you say, homie? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, terror. My name ain't your concern, so rejoice."
Everett stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he grunted. "This here little chickadee of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered dreamily, their Adam's apples quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger lamented, ignoring Everett's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my precious a fruit smoothie," Everett thought. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of rearranging 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 mysteriously picked up the drink.
Repeatedly, Everett grabbed the stranger by her belly, trying to kiss her passionately on her hangnail. The stranger padded up, seized Everett by the kneecap, and with a stubborn wrinkled nose, dragged him to a nearby settee and turned him on his pride.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger intimated busily. "The name's Brenda, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Everett sputtered joyously until Brenda let go and breathlessly turned away with a bold crow. Suddenly, Everett reached into his pair of glasses and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, beefcake. I got something for you, doll."
Brenda turned sympathetically, drew her banjo, and faced Everett. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Rugged? There ain't a woman in two counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other hopelessly for what seemed like a day. Finally, Everett lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Everett appealed quickly. "You got a lotta nostrils for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Brenda took his hand with an exuberant shout. "You know, mon chéri, you're kinda annoying when you're angry."
Everett chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another fruit smoothie," he worried.