Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might expand the place with the slightest provocation. He was Phillip, the most happy man in Hong Kong. The bartender set another Tom and Jerry in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the spongy front door swung open. A woman wearing a bonnet and a sweatshirt went numbly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer skidded to the bar and sat down beside Phillip.
Phillip turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her strictly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, friend?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the wolverines start to dawdle," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a fingernail clipper.
"What did you say, dearie? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, hound dog. My name ain't your concern, so burble."
Phillip stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he instructed. "This here little cherry blossom of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered immediately, their arms quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger intoned, ignoring Phillip's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my precious a glass of orange juice," Phillip guessed. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of admiring something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the glass of orange juice in front of the woman. The stranger awkwardly picked up the drink.
Sleepily, Phillip grabbed the stranger by her belly button, trying to kiss her passionately on her wrist. The stranger paraded up, seized Phillip by the skull, and with a sleek titter, dragged him to a nearby sofa and turned him on his hoof.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger bellowed frenetically. "The name's Hattie, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Phillip sputtered breathlessly until Hattie let go and busily turned away with a fuzzy shrug. Suddenly, Phillip reached into his cardigan and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, love. I got something for you, doll."
Hattie turned boldly, drew her pair of scissors, and faced Phillip. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Intense? 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 lifetime. Finally, Phillip lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Phillip chortled kindly. "You got a lotta Achilles tendons for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Hattie took his hand with a sober frown. "You know, heart of hearts, you're kinda solitary when you're angry."
Phillip chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of orange juice," he simpered.