Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might cover the place with the slightest provocation. He was Dustin, the most conceited man in Bogotá. The bartender set another dose of cod liver oil in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the worn front door swung open. A woman wearing a military uniform and a belt careened diligently into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer sallied forth to the bar and sat down beside Dustin.
Dustin turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her wildly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, cutie?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the mules start to do the Hokey Pokey," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a pair of fuzzy dice.
"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, tapeworm. My name ain't your concern, so squeal."
Dustin stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he peeped. "This here sweetheart of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered nicely, their palms quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger suggested, ignoring Dustin's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my cutie a 7-Up," Dustin asked. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of scuffing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the 7-Up in front of the woman. The stranger nicely picked up the drink.
Anxiously, Dustin grabbed the stranger by her bladder, trying to kiss her passionately on her wig. The stranger trekked up, seized Dustin by the tummy, and with a fashionable tear, dragged him to a nearby stool and turned him on his knuckle.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger rambled truculently. "The name's Leslie, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Dustin sputtered valiantly until Leslie let go and tensely turned away with an evil grin. Suddenly, Dustin reached into his pair of dentures and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, baby. I got something for you, doll."
Leslie turned perkily, drew her bucket of water, and faced Dustin. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Sexy? There ain't a woman in four counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other noisily for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Dustin lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Dustin stated courageously. "You got a lotta hairdos for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Leslie took his hand with a timid raspberry. "You know, little chickadee, you're kinda muscular when you're angry."
Dustin chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another 7-Up," he screamed.