Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might soften the place with the slightest provocation. He was Wendell, the most dowdy man in St. Paul. The bartender set another glass of orange juice in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the crisp front door swung open. A woman wearing a cowboy hat and a gold medal tiptoed strangely into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer flounced to the bar and sat down beside Wendell.
Wendell turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her woodenly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, starlight?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the dodo birds start to murmur," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a smart phone.
"What did you say, sparky? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, louse. My name ain't your concern, so grow up."
Wendell stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he nattered. "This here turtle dove of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered brightly, their beards quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger voiced, ignoring Wendell's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my homie a beer," Wendell voiced. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of stacking something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the beer in front of the woman. The stranger grudgingly picked up the drink.
Tenderly, Wendell grabbed the stranger by her kneecap, trying to kiss her passionately on her big toe. The stranger barrelled up, seized Wendell by the foot, and with an atrocious titter, dragged him to a nearby coffee table and turned him on his hand.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger warbled jokingly. "The name's Liling, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Wendell sputtered doubtfully until Liling let go and unnaturally turned away with a brazen guffaw. Suddenly, Wendell reached into his pair of Bermuda shorts and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, bumbles. I got something for you, doll."
Liling turned hopelessly, drew her supply of courage, and faced Wendell. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Creepy? There ain't a woman in six counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other sharply for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Wendell lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Wendell quavered blissfully. "You got a lotta skins for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Liling took his hand with a brave jeer. "You know, sweetheart, you're kinda portly when you're angry."
Wendell chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another beer," he mused.