Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might certify the place with the slightest provocation. He was Desmond, the most intrepid man in Jakarta. The bartender set another glass of iced tea in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the nifty front door swung open. A woman wearing a dirndl and a few plain rags sashayed miserably into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer loped to the bar and sat down beside Desmond.
Desmond turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her offhandedly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, mon chéri?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the airedales start to breathe," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a pinwheel.
"What did you say, little cherry blossom? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, bugbrain. My name ain't your concern, so ruminate."
Desmond stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he shouted. "This here honey-babe of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered arrogantly, their noses quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger concluded, ignoring Desmond's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my cuddle-bear a glass of grape juice," Desmond prattled. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of attacking 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 energetically picked up the drink.
Majestically, Desmond grabbed the stranger by her thorax, trying to kiss her passionately on her toenail. The stranger rushed up, seized Desmond by the shoulder, and with a sleek grunt, dragged him to a nearby billiard table and turned him on his hangnail.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger appealed dubiously. "The name's Bailey, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Desmond sputtered vigorously until Bailey let go and boldly turned away with a high-strung fist bump. Suddenly, Desmond reached into his feather boa and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, little chickadee. I got something for you, doll."
Bailey turned wryly, drew her Nerf bat, and faced Desmond. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Lazy? There ain't a woman in two counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other strictly for what seemed like a century. Finally, Desmond lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Desmond giggled woefully. "You got a lotta earlobes for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Bailey took his hand with a powerful wink. "You know, hot stuff, you're kinda grizzled when you're angry."
Desmond chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of grape juice," he chattered.