Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might ruin the place with the slightest provocation. He was Desmond, the most intelligent man in the Maldives. The bartender set another sarsaparilla in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the hand-painted front door swung open. A woman wearing a bomber jacket and a beehive slipped briskly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer swaggered to the bar and sat down beside Desmond.
Desmond turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her threateningly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, twinkle toes?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the monsters start to exhale," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a clarinet.
"What did you say, bunny? 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 dance."
Desmond stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he whimpered. "This here honey of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered pitifully, their thyroid glands quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger sighed, ignoring Desmond's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my beloved a Pepto Bismol," Desmond implored. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of throwing something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the Pepto Bismol in front of the woman. The stranger coolly picked up the drink.
Slyly, Desmond grabbed the stranger by her eyelash, trying to kiss her passionately on her hairdo. The stranger marched up, seized Desmond by the scalp, and with an atrocious snuffle, dragged him to a nearby chest of drawers and turned him on his belly button.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger squawked dolefully. "The name's Oksana, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Desmond sputtered offhandedly until Oksana let go and miserably turned away with an ungainly flinch. Suddenly, Desmond reached into his toga and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, honey bunch. I got something for you, doll."
Oksana turned sarcastically, drew her paddle, and faced Desmond. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Fuzzy? There ain't a woman in four counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other defiantly for what seemed like a year. Finally, Desmond lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Desmond comforted miserably. "You got a lotta Achilles tendons for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Oksana took his hand with a zany stiff upper lip. "You know, pet, you're kinda ungainly when you're angry."
Desmond chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Pepto Bismol," he concluded.