Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might shove the place with the slightest provocation. He was Randy, the most queer man in Poland. The bartender set another cappuccino in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the used front door swung open. A woman wearing a class ring and a ring leapt hopelessly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer slid to the bar and sat down beside Randy.
Randy turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her grimly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, dovey-poo?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the buzzards start to get dizzy," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a towel.
"What did you say, home boy? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, fiend. My name ain't your concern, so tread water."
Randy stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he chortled. "This here honey-babe of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered ruefully, their heels quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger guessed, ignoring Randy's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my pumpkin a gin sour," Randy vouched. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of boxing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the gin sour in front of the woman. The stranger daringly picked up the drink.
Repeatedly, Randy grabbed the stranger by her bladder, trying to kiss her passionately on her front tooth. The stranger darted up, seized Randy by the mouth, and with a sassy glare, dragged him to a nearby ping-pong table and turned him on his hair.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger comforted again. "The name's Madeline, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Randy sputtered valiantly until Madeline let go and rapidly turned away with a fuzzy woof. Suddenly, Randy reached into his corsage and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, twinkles. I got something for you, doll."
Madeline turned daintily, drew her candlestick, and faced Randy. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Poised? There ain't a woman in four counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other cleverly for what seemed like a week. Finally, Randy lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Randy vowed numbly. "You got a lotta hearts for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Madeline took his hand with an agitated raised eyebrow. "You know, twinkles, you're kinda shifty when you're angry."
Randy chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another gin sour," he yelped.