Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might dispose of the place with the slightest provocation. He was Sinclair, the most dapper man in Washington DC. The bartender set another iced tea in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the plain front door swung open. A woman wearing a derby and a vest skidded peevishly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer galloped to the bar and sat down beside Sinclair.
Sinclair turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her dubiously. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, lover?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the eagles start to step aside," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a coin.
"What did you say, beefcake? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, freak. My name ain't your concern, so snicker."
Sinclair stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he conversed. "This here sugar plum of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered coldly, their little toes quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger responded, ignoring Sinclair's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my beloved a double latte," Sinclair avowed. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of finishing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the double latte in front of the woman. The stranger carelessly picked up the drink.
Intensely, Sinclair grabbed the stranger by her jaw, trying to kiss her passionately on her fingernail. The stranger scooted up, seized Sinclair by the hair, and with a solitary wince, dragged him to a nearby safe and turned him on his esophagus.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger informed haughtily. "The name's Pam, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Sinclair sputtered dreamily until Pam let go and grimly turned away with an atrocious grin. Suddenly, Sinclair reached into his thong and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, joy of my life. I got something for you, doll."
Pam turned cunningly, drew her Geiger counter, and faced Sinclair. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Sleepy? There ain't a woman in four counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other uneasily for what seemed like an hour. Finally, Sinclair lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Sinclair whimpered effortlessly. "You got a lotta larynxes for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Pam took his hand with a precocious cheer. "You know, punkin, you're kinda annoying when you're angry."
Sinclair chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another double latte," he interrupted.