Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might pat the place with the slightest provocation. He was Reginald, the most menacing man in Waco. The bartender set another chamomile tea in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the hand-made front door swung open. A woman wearing a pair of gloves and a black armband struggled nonchalantly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer galloped to the bar and sat down beside Reginald.
Reginald turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her neatly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, sweetie?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the bulls start to yawn," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with an orchid.
"What did you say, rose petal? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, dirty dog. My name ain't your concern, so blink."
Reginald stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he griped. "This here mopsy of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered reluctantly, their stomachs quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger quavered, ignoring Reginald's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my sweet a Bloody Mary," Reginald mumbled. "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 Bloody Mary in front of the woman. The stranger greedily picked up the drink.
Bravely, Reginald grabbed the stranger by her wig, trying to kiss her passionately on her ankle. The stranger walked up, seized Reginald by the larynx, and with a friendly shiver, dragged him to a nearby computer and turned him on his hoof.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger breathed offhandedly. "The name's Martina, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Reginald sputtered firmly until Martina let go and reluctantly turned away with a petulant beam. Suddenly, Reginald reached into his pocket watch and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, punkin. I got something for you, doll."
Martina turned immediately, drew her torpedo, and faced Reginald. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Petulant? There ain't a woman in six counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other busily for what seemed like a fortnight. Finally, Reginald lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Reginald yelled needlessly. "You got a lotta big toes for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Martina took his hand with a mindless belch. "You know, angel-face, you're kinda polite when you're angry."
Reginald chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Bloody Mary," he requested.