Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might flatten the place with the slightest provocation. He was Willard, the most attractive man in Concord. The bartender set another piña colada in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the rough front door swung open. A woman wearing a coonskin hat and an overcoat waltzed sorrowfully into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer crept to the bar and sat down beside Willard.
Willard turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her suspiciously. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, treasure?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the gerbils start to sway," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a tablet computer.
"What did you say, tootsie-pie? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, pook. My name ain't your concern, so freeze."
Willard stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he stuttered. "This here pork chop of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered surreptitiously, their nostrils quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger began, ignoring Willard's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my twinkie a double latte," Willard drawled. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of wiggling something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the double latte in front of the woman. The stranger energetically picked up the drink.
Woodenly, Willard grabbed the stranger by her back, trying to kiss her passionately on her collarbone. The stranger marched up, seized Willard by the aorta, and with a pensive chortle, dragged him to a nearby file cabinet and turned him on his front tooth.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger whimpered vacantly. "The name's Victoria, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Willard sputtered strangely until Victoria let go and coldly turned away with a disorganized dope slap. Suddenly, Willard reached into his headband and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, mi amor. I got something for you, doll."
Victoria turned queerly, drew her accordion, and faced Willard. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Beautiful? There ain't a woman in two counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other narrowly for what seemed like a lifetime. Finally, Willard lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Willard complained quietly. "You got a lotta elbows for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Victoria took his hand with a gentle clenched fist. "You know, snigglefritz, you're kinda cruel when you're angry."
Willard chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another double latte," he interpreted.