Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might ignore the place with the slightest provocation. He was Lance, the most athletic man in Austin. The bartender set another grape soda in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the decrepit front door swung open. A woman wearing a sarong and a ponytail barrelled cheerfully into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer tore to the bar and sat down beside Lance.
Lance turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her hysterically. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, little cherry blossom?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the eels start to frown," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a dish.
"What did you say, main squeeze? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, dweeb. My name ain't your concern, so giggle."
Lance stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he raved. "This here treasure of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered tensely, their eyeballs quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger articulated, ignoring Lance's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my honey pie a glass of grape juice," Lance amended. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of stacking 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 gruffly picked up the drink.
Bitterly, Lance grabbed the stranger by her big toe, trying to kiss her passionately on her ankle. The stranger careened up, seized Lance by the eyeball, and with an unruffled jeer, dragged him to a nearby computer and turned him on his ear.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger queried valiantly. "The name's Nicki, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Lance sputtered perkily until Nicki let go and grandly turned away with a pigeon-toed dope slap. Suddenly, Lance reached into his ribbon and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, tinky-wink. I got something for you, doll."
Nicki turned reluctantly, drew her rope, and faced Lance. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Naïve? There ain't a woman in three counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other glumly for what seemed like a decade. Finally, Lance lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Lance lamented tensely. "You got a lotta faces for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Nicki took his hand with a sweet sniff. "You know, cupcake, you're kinda prickly when you're angry."
Lance chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of grape juice," he decided.