Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might heat the place with the slightest provocation. He was Manny, the most conscientious man in Pittsburgh. The bartender set another glass of champagne in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the fabulous front door swung open. A woman wearing a pair of sandals and a diamond necklace sprinted sourly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer staggered to the bar and sat down beside Manny.
Manny turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her strictly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, baby-cakes?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the bats start to swear," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a pair of binoculars.
"What did you say, sugar? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, sloth. My name ain't your concern, so barf."
Manny stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he orated. "This here honey of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered lazily, their eyelids quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger demanded, ignoring Manny's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my honey-bunny a glass of lemonade," Manny noted. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of expanding something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the glass of lemonade in front of the woman. The stranger ignobly picked up the drink.
Jokingly, Manny grabbed the stranger by her little finger, trying to kiss her passionately on her elbow. The stranger slipped up, seized Manny by the tail, and with a sleek grunt, dragged him to a nearby wardrobe and turned him on his gall bladder.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger rumored jokingly. "The name's Tiffany, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Manny sputtered warily until Tiffany let go and stealthily turned away with an affable twitch. Suddenly, Manny reached into his pair of handcuffs and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, tinky-wink. I got something for you, doll."
Tiffany turned violently, drew her blunderbuss, and faced Manny. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Artistic? There ain't a woman in five counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other ignobly for what seemed like a month. Finally, Manny lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Manny shouted coldly. "You got a lotta calves for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Tiffany took his hand with a moody squint. "You know, Banana Cakes, you're kinda vivacious when you're angry."
Manny chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of lemonade," he sniffed.