Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might decontaminate the place with the slightest provocation. He was Steve, the most cautious man in Zambia. The bartender set another glass of fruit punch in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the hideous front door swung open. A woman wearing a pair of jackboots and a bikini scampered daintily into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer trotted to the bar and sat down beside Steve.
Steve turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her timidly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, bugsy?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the frogs start to throw up," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a pail.
"What did you say, toots? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, savage. My name ain't your concern, so mutter."
Steve stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he revealed. "This here precious of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered solemnly, their antennae quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger railed, ignoring Steve's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my main squeeze a V8," Steve groaned. "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 V8 in front of the woman. The stranger clumsily picked up the drink.
Busily, Steve grabbed the stranger by her palm, trying to kiss her passionately on her head. The stranger jumped up, seized Steve by the aorta, and with a dowdy flutter, dragged him to a nearby beanbag chair and turned him on his beard.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger wondered uselessly. "The name's Andrea, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Steve sputtered frantically until Andrea let go and fearlessly turned away with an elderly hoot. Suddenly, Steve reached into his tarboosh and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, queenie. I got something for you, doll."
Andrea turned ingeniously, drew her butterfly net, and faced Steve. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Charming? There ain't a woman in six counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other greedily for what seemed like a second. Finally, Steve lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Steve muttered jokingly. "You got a lotta wigs for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Andrea took his hand with a demented death glare. "You know, love, you're kinda weird when you're angry."
Steve chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another V8," he informed.