Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might scuff the place with the slightest provocation. He was Corbin, the most sociable man in the Marshall Islands. The bartender set another chocolate milk in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the brittle front door swung open. A woman wearing a romper and a hair net loped kindly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer skidded to the bar and sat down beside Corbin.
Corbin turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her energetically. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, little one?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the owls start to rock," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a clipboard.
"What did you say, pork chop? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, whippersnapper. My name ain't your concern, so growl."
Corbin stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he shouted. "This here noodle of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered valiantly, their spleens quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger wailed, ignoring Corbin's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my tootsie a soda," Corbin jeered. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of overlooking something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the soda in front of the woman. The stranger angrily picked up the drink.
Narrowly, Corbin grabbed the stranger by her stomach, trying to kiss her passionately on her shin. The stranger tumbled up, seized Corbin by the dignity, and with a weary furrowed brow, dragged him to a nearby ironing board and turned him on his spinal cord.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger begged cautiously. "The name's Geraldine, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Corbin sputtered slowly until Geraldine let go and sleepily turned away with a freakish face palm. Suddenly, Corbin reached into his ponytail and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, honey-pie. I got something for you, doll."
Geraldine turned properly, drew her air freshener, and faced Corbin. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Bellicose? There ain't a woman in five counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other gracefully for what seemed like a month. Finally, Corbin lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Corbin piped up dolorously. "You got a lotta little toes for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Geraldine took his hand with a maniacal grunt. "You know, cream puff, you're kinda blubbery when you're angry."
Corbin chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another soda," he called.