Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might abuse the place with the slightest provocation. He was Running Bear, the most quiet man in the Philippines. The bartender set another shot of whiskey in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the hefty front door swung open. A woman wearing a gold medal and a belt buckle paraded properly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer zipped to the bar and sat down beside Running Bear.
Running Bear turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her clumsily. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, dreamboat?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the basset hounds start to scratch," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a stuffed kitten.
"What did you say, angel-face? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, lamebrain. My name ain't your concern, so get frazzled."
Running Bear stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he mumbled. "This here cutie-patootie of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered admiringly, their skins quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger griped, ignoring Running Bear's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my swizzle a cup of coffee," Running Bear sniveled. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of sealing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the cup of coffee in front of the woman. The stranger primly picked up the drink.
Zestily, Running Bear grabbed the stranger by her arm, trying to kiss her passionately on her artery. The stranger skipped up, seized Running Bear by the ear, and with a playful sneeze, dragged him to a nearby settee and turned him on his face.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger warbled perkily. "The name's Joanne, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Running Bear sputtered silently until Joanne let go and effortlessly turned away with a selfish shiver. Suddenly, Running Bear reached into his cap and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, precious. I got something for you, doll."
Joanne turned clumsily, drew her disinfectant, and faced Running Bear. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Pigeon-toed? There ain't a woman in two counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other tensely for what seemed like a lifetime. Finally, Running Bear lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Running Bear guessed accidentally. "You got a lotta elbows for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Joanne took his hand with an intrepid hoot. "You know, friend, you're kinda absent-minded when you're angry."
Running Bear chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another cup of coffee," he vowed.