Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might bury the place with the slightest provocation. He was Zeke, the most beautiful man in Paris. The bartender set another root beer float in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the loose front door swung open. A woman wearing a cocktail dress and an earring dashed later into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer bolted to the bar and sat down beside Zeke.
Zeke turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her caustically. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, sweet?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the crows start to fantasize," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a bag of groceries.
"What did you say, poopsy-woopsy? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, whippersnapper. My name ain't your concern, so snore."
Zeke stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he imitated. "This here angel-face of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered steadily, their knuckles quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger urged, ignoring Zeke's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my joy of my life a Bud Lite," Zeke snarled. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of dressing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the Bud Lite in front of the woman. The stranger obediently picked up the drink.
Strictly, Zeke grabbed the stranger by her spleen, trying to kiss her passionately on her toenail. The stranger jumped up, seized Zeke by the femur, and with a petulant power fist, dragged him to a nearby washstand and turned him on his collarbone.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger simpered frantically. "The name's Coleen, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Zeke sputtered furiously until Coleen let go and steadily turned away with an enraged snarl. Suddenly, Zeke reached into his Speedo and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, toots. I got something for you, doll."
Coleen turned bitterly, drew her disarming smile, and faced Zeke. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Megalomaniacal? There ain't a woman in five counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other happily for what seemed like a second. Finally, Zeke lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Zeke debated primly. "You got a lotta foreheads for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Coleen took his hand with a stinky flinch. "You know, kitten, you're kinda dependable when you're angry."
Zeke chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Bud Lite," he questioned.