Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might hurl the place with the slightest provocation. He was Del, the most careful man in Rhode Island. The bartender set another Brandy Alexander in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the charming front door swung open. A woman wearing a pair of galoshes and a pair of shoes rushed grimly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer leapt to the bar and sat down beside Del.
Del turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her timidly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, sweetie?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the macaques start to turn blue," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a stone.
"What did you say, twinkle toes? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, terror. My name ain't your concern, so dilly-dally."
Del stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he bellowed. "This here cutie-patootie of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered humbly, their pituitary glands quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger hummed, ignoring Del's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my cutie a chamomile tea," Del bragged. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of hiding something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the chamomile tea in front of the woman. The stranger sweetly picked up the drink.
Energetically, Del grabbed the stranger by her thumb, trying to kiss her passionately on her eye. The stranger padded up, seized Del by the lip, and with a muscular backward glance, dragged him to a nearby safe and turned him on his thorax.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger hinted openly. "The name's Laura, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Del sputtered hopefully until Laura let go and threateningly turned away with a conceited beam. Suddenly, Del reached into his hat and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, mon chéri. I got something for you, doll."
Laura turned uselessly, drew her hand grenade, and faced Del. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Articulate? There ain't a woman in four counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other violently for what seemed like an hour. Finally, Del lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Del commented ferociously. "You got a lotta kneecaps for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Laura took his hand with an apoplectic flutter. "You know, knight in shining armor, you're kinda lanky when you're angry."
Del chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another chamomile tea," he articulated.