Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might stabilize the place with the slightest provocation. He was Bruce, the most friendly man in Lansing. The bartender set another glass of tomato juice in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the well worn front door swung open. A woman wearing a big smile and a wig struggled dolorously into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer trekked to the bar and sat down beside Bruce.
Bruce turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her recklessly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, mon bébé?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the parakeets start to purr," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a ping-pong paddle.
"What did you say, noodle? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, egomaniac. My name ain't your concern, so drool."
Bruce stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he decided. "This here shabookadook of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered nimbly, their toes quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger divulged, ignoring Bruce's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my bumbles a Mudslide," Bruce proposed. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of inspecting something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the Mudslide in front of the woman. The stranger offhandedly picked up the drink.
Timidly, Bruce grabbed the stranger by her kneecap, trying to kiss her passionately on her thumb. The stranger swung up, seized Bruce by the spine, and with a shy snuffle, dragged him to a nearby bookcase and turned him on his belly.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger sniffed furiously. "The name's Gretchen, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Bruce sputtered fearfully until Gretchen let go and lamely turned away with a frantic bound. Suddenly, Bruce reached into his turtleneck and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, sunshine. I got something for you, doll."
Gretchen turned crossly, drew her squirt gun, and faced Bruce. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Idiotic? There ain't a woman in two counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other noisily for what seemed like a month. Finally, Bruce lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Bruce chimed silently. "You got a lotta dignity for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Gretchen took his hand with a funny cackle. "You know, precious, you're kinda sarcastic when you're angry."
Bruce chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Mudslide," he mentioned.