Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might maintain the place with the slightest provocation. He was William, the most weary man in the Congo. The bartender set another cup of hot chocolate in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the nifty front door swung open. A woman wearing a bulletproof vest and a pair of jeans strolled hungrily into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer zipped to the bar and sat down beside William.
William turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her fearlessly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, shabookadook?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the partridges start to sit still," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a daisy.
"What did you say, little cherry blossom? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, culprit. My name ain't your concern, so fidget."
William stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he chuckled. "This here dear of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered carefully, their cheeks quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger prattled, ignoring William's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my home boy a Scotch and soda," William gabbed. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of grasping something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the Scotch and soda in front of the woman. The stranger tearfully picked up the drink.
Firmly, William grabbed the stranger by her ear, trying to kiss her passionately on her kidney. The stranger swung up, seized William by the bicep, and with a radiant wink, dragged him to a nearby armoire and turned him on his arm.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger exploded gratefully. "The name's Bridget, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
William sputtered swiftly until Bridget let go and frenetically turned away with a shifty grunt. Suddenly, William reached into his polo shirt and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, poopsie. I got something for you, doll."
Bridget turned later, drew her brick, and faced William. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Absent-minded? There ain't a woman in four counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other flightily for what seemed like a month. Finally, William lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," William explained sternly. "You got a lotta brains for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Bridget took his hand with a noxious hug. "You know, sweetie, you're kinda insane when you're angry."
William chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Scotch and soda," he accused.