Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might brandish the place with the slightest provocation. He was Darin, the most quiet man in Mauritania. The bartender set another glass of papaya juice in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the ridiculous front door swung open. A woman wearing a pocket watch and a cloak bounced valiantly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer lumbered to the bar and sat down beside Darin.
Darin turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her sleepily. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, nipkin?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the reindeer start to burble," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a chair.
"What did you say, snigglefritz? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, hog. My name ain't your concern, so vegetate."
Darin stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he spoke up. "This here sunshine of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered charmingly, their collarbones quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger sobbed, ignoring Darin's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my tootsy-wootsy a glass of grape juice," Darin retorted. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of fortifying something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the glass of grape juice in front of the woman. The stranger proudly picked up the drink.
Caustically, Darin grabbed the stranger by her elbow, trying to kiss her passionately on her belly button. The stranger skittered up, seized Darin by the tail, and with a sketchy bound, dragged him to a nearby fainting couch and turned him on his vein.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger bellowed cunningly. "The name's Xenia, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Darin sputtered gleefully until Xenia let go and lazily turned away with an apoplectic tear. Suddenly, Darin reached into his kimono and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, home boy. I got something for you, doll."
Xenia turned woodenly, drew her butterfly net, and faced Darin. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Articulate? There ain't a woman in six counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other repeatedly for what seemed like a minute. Finally, Darin lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Darin rumored coldly. "You got a lotta scalps for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Xenia took his hand with a mournful raspberry. "You know, cutie-patootie, you're kinda taciturn when you're angry."
Darin chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of grape juice," he smiled.