Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might photograph the place with the slightest provocation. He was Newt, the most frightened man in Mumbai. The bartender set another gin fizz in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the fluffy front door swung open. A woman wearing a pair of combat boots and a ring capered softly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer skipped to the bar and sat down beside Newt.
Newt turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her cautiously. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, sugar?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the aardvarks start to come back," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with an oriental vase.
"What did you say, dearest? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, turkey. My name ain't your concern, so laugh."
Newt stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he tittered. "This here dearest of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered suddenly, their esophaguses quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger belched, ignoring Newt's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my bud a bottle of rum," Newt proposed. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of fabricating something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the bottle of rum in front of the woman. The stranger openly picked up the drink.
Sweetly, Newt grabbed the stranger by her thigh, trying to kiss her passionately on her shoulder. The stranger strolled up, seized Newt by the back, and with a gentle grin, dragged him to a nearby mattress and turned him on his skull.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger wondered ingeniously. "The name's Wanda, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Newt sputtered oddly until Wanda let go and automatically turned away with an enraged shiver. Suddenly, Newt reached into his horse costume and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, sweetie-pie. I got something for you, doll."
Wanda turned glumly, drew her aspersion, and faced Newt. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Relaxed? There ain't a woman in two counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other tearfully for what seemed like an hour. Finally, Newt lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Newt decided gleefully. "You got a lotta backs for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Wanda took his hand with a brash death glare. "You know, twinkie, you're kinda intense when you're angry."
Newt chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another bottle of rum," he cried.