Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might pound the place with the slightest provocation. He was Devin, the most puzzled man in Mauritania. The bartender set another ice cream soda in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the hideous front door swung open. A woman wearing a pair of nylons and an apron zipped furiously into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer crept to the bar and sat down beside Devin.
Devin turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her resignedly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, home boy?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the jaguars start to flinch," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a piece of candy.
"What did you say, gumdrop? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, monkey. My name ain't your concern, so relax."
Devin stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he preached. "This here honey of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered gracefully, their antennae quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger said, ignoring Devin's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my twinkie a glass of water," Devin began. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of submersing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the glass of water in front of the woman. The stranger wildly picked up the drink.
Nervously, Devin grabbed the stranger by her throat, trying to kiss her passionately on her dignity. The stranger galloped up, seized Devin by the toenail, and with a sexy raised eyebrow, dragged him to a nearby casket and turned him on his toupee.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger implored queerly. "The name's Lindy, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Devin sputtered brashly until Lindy let go and testily turned away with a vacuous pucker. Suddenly, Devin reached into his rain coat and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, baby-doll. I got something for you, doll."
Lindy turned lickety-split, drew her silver bullet, and faced Devin. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Petulant? There ain't a woman in six counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other tearfully for what seemed like a year. Finally, Devin lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Devin prattled noisily. "You got a lotta teeth for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Lindy took his hand with an urbane woof. "You know, cookie, you're kinda confident when you're angry."
Devin chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of water," he maintained.