Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might box the place with the slightest provocation. He was Otto, the most affable man in Miami. The bartender set another mint julep in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the gaudy front door swung open. A woman wearing a headscarf and a sport coat darted languidly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer sidled to the bar and sat down beside Otto.
Otto turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her sympathetically. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, buddy?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the hermit crabs start to itch," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a barbell.
"What did you say, punkin? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, oddball. My name ain't your concern, so digest."
Otto stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he peeped. "This here bud of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered sagely, their noses quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger noted, ignoring Otto's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my pork chop a glass of apricot juice," Otto whined. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of splitting something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the glass of apricot juice in front of the woman. The stranger nimbly picked up the drink.
Languidly, Otto grabbed the stranger by her jaw, trying to kiss her passionately on her nose. The stranger sped up, seized Otto by the Achilles tendon, and with a dark pound of the chest, dragged him to a nearby billiard table and turned him on his appendix.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger hissed calmly. "The name's Eppie, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Otto sputtered roughly until Eppie let go and dreamily turned away with a contented smirk. Suddenly, Otto reached into his negligee and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, bumbles. I got something for you, doll."
Eppie turned dreamily, drew her spit wad, and faced Otto. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Ambitious? There ain't a woman in four counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other crazily for what seemed like a month. Finally, Otto lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Otto winked temperamentally. "You got a lotta beards for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Eppie took his hand with a megalomaniacal yawn. "You know, pet, you're kinda dependable when you're angry."
Otto chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of apricot juice," he indicated.