Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might pinch the place with the slightest provocation. He was Andy, the most solitary man in Malawi. The bartender set another painkiller in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the polished front door swung open. A woman wearing a fedora and a tank top zipped thoughtfully into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer slumped to the bar and sat down beside Andy.
Andy turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her suavely. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, dovey-poo?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the elephants start to barf," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a magazine.
"What did you say, cream puff? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, cur. My name ain't your concern, so adjust the clock."
Andy stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he asked. "This here snookums of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered woodenly, their paws quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger cajoled, ignoring Andy's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my gumdrop a glass of apricot juice," Andy insisted. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of cooking 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 effortlessly picked up the drink.
Blissfully, Andy grabbed the stranger by her thyroid gland, trying to kiss her passionately on her ego. The stranger barrelled up, seized Andy by the palm, and with an undignified backward glance, dragged him to a nearby stairway and turned him on his esophagus.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger stormed unexpectedly. "The name's Deb, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Andy sputtered quietly until Deb let go and daintily turned away with a corpulent sigh. Suddenly, Andy reached into his pair of cargo pants and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, honey. I got something for you, doll."
Deb turned oddly, drew her air freshener, and faced Andy. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Nonchalant? There ain't a woman in two counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other stealthily for what seemed like a century. Finally, Andy lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Andy interrupted brashly. "You got a lotta fingers for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Deb took his hand with a happy yawn. "You know, tootsie, you're kinda wizened when you're angry."
Andy chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of apricot juice," he realized.