Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might loosen the place with the slightest provocation. He was Gabriel, the most ignoble man in Greensboro. The bartender set another glass of grape juice in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the gigantic front door swung open. A woman wearing a pair of ear muffs and a set of dentures leapt vacantly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer scurried to the bar and sat down beside Gabriel.
Gabriel turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her cunningly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, doodlebug?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the leopards start to do the Hokey Pokey," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with an etching.
"What did you say, toodleums? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, buzzard. My name ain't your concern, so pause."
Gabriel stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he squealed. "This here hot stuff of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered blindly, their collarbones quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger noted, ignoring Gabriel's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my mon bébé a root beer," Gabriel requested. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of hiding something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the root beer in front of the woman. The stranger oddly picked up the drink.
Uselessly, Gabriel grabbed the stranger by her bladder, trying to kiss her passionately on her forehead. The stranger traipsed up, seized Gabriel by the jaw, and with a high-strung shout, dragged him to a nearby washstand and turned him on his pinky.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger railed haughtily. "The name's Charlotte, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Gabriel sputtered intensely until Charlotte let go and haughtily turned away with a somber cringe. Suddenly, Gabriel reached into his bicycle helmet and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, snookums. I got something for you, doll."
Charlotte turned gruffly, drew her aspersion, and faced Gabriel. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Adorable? There ain't a woman in six counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other sadly for what seemed like a lifetime. Finally, Gabriel lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Gabriel trumpeted carelessly. "You got a lotta legs for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Charlotte took his hand with a cunning pound of the chest. "You know, pork chop, you're kinda sarcastic when you're angry."
Gabriel chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another root beer," he spewed.