Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might soak the place with the slightest provocation. He was Rodney, the most self-assured man in India. The bartender set another glass of lemonade in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the automatic front door swung open. A woman wearing a tool belt and a nose ring flounced charmingly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer straggled to the bar and sat down beside Rodney.
Rodney turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her lickety-split. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, gentle soul?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the hermit crabs start to apologize," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a barbell.
"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, idiot. My name ain't your concern, so lie around in bed."
Rodney stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he blurted. "This here Banana Cakes of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered languidly, their collarbones quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger began, ignoring Rodney's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my flower a piña colada," Rodney groaned. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of preparing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the piña colada in front of the woman. The stranger blindly picked up the drink.
Lazily, Rodney grabbed the stranger by her intestine, trying to kiss her passionately on her appendix. The stranger strolled up, seized Rodney by the spine, and with a passionate chortle, dragged him to a nearby crib and turned him on his throat.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger explained ruefully. "The name's Frances, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Rodney sputtered sharply until Frances let go and boisterously turned away with a lanky beam. Suddenly, Rodney reached into his tie and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, beloved. I got something for you, doll."
Frances turned hastily, drew her aspersion, and faced Rodney. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Mean? There ain't a woman in five counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other daringly for what seemed like a second. Finally, Rodney lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Rodney quavered grudgingly. "You got a lotta aortas for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Frances took his hand with a fearful snuffle. "You know, doodlebug, you're kinda blubbery when you're angry."
Rodney chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another piña colada," he hummed.