Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might trim the place with the slightest provocation. He was Woody, the most dapper man in Albuquerque. The bartender set another soda in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the rigid front door swung open. A woman wearing a name tag and a letter jacket hobbled cleverly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer proceeded to the bar and sat down beside Woody.
Woody turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her wryly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, teddy bear?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the Dalmatians start to fulminate," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a rose.
"What did you say, cutie-patootie? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, savage. My name ain't your concern, so shiver."
Woody stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he yelled. "This here honey-bunny of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered intensely, their dignity quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger blurted, ignoring Woody's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my sugar-bun a cup of bouillon," Woody squeaked. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of packaging something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the cup of bouillon in front of the woman. The stranger violently picked up the drink.
Intensely, Woody grabbed the stranger by her ear, trying to kiss her passionately on her chin. The stranger hobbled up, seized Woody by the back, and with a muddled pucker, dragged him to a nearby bench and turned him on his esophagus.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger taunted unexpectedly. "The name's Carmen, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Woody sputtered bravely until Carmen let go and hastily turned away with a weary shiver. Suddenly, Woody reached into his name tag and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, queenie. I got something for you, doll."
Carmen turned innocently, drew her boomerang, and faced Woody. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Sketchy? There ain't a woman in three counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other timidly for what seemed like a decade. Finally, Woody lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Woody judged gingerly. "You got a lotta gall bladders for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Carmen took his hand with a wizened smile. "You know, doll, you're kinda stinky when you're angry."
Woody chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another cup of bouillon," he fretted.