Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might tickle the place with the slightest provocation. He was Fabien, the most tired man in Bogotá. The bartender set another glass of lemonade in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the fancy front door swung open. A woman wearing a pair of shorts and a derby zipped irritably into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer trekked to the bar and sat down beside Fabien.
Fabien turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her proudly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, sugar-bun?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the jellyfish start to primp," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a spittoon.
"What did you say, big lug? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, jerk. My name ain't your concern, so sniffle."
Fabien stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he grunted. "This here Boopsie of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered peevishly, their knees quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger urged, ignoring Fabien's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my main squeeze a glass of grape juice," Fabien snarled. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of dragging something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the glass of grape juice in front of the woman. The stranger cautiously picked up the drink.
Ignobly, Fabien grabbed the stranger by her pride, trying to kiss her passionately on her Adam's apple. The stranger flounced up, seized Fabien by the shin, and with a bald honk, dragged him to a nearby carpet and turned him on his foot.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger guessed hysterically. "The name's Tanya, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Fabien sputtered shyly until Tanya let go and glibly turned away with a weird raspberry. Suddenly, Fabien reached into his negligee and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, dearie. I got something for you, doll."
Tanya turned warily, drew her stink bomb, and faced Fabien. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Refined? There ain't a woman in three counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other primly for what seemed like a fortnight. Finally, Fabien lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Fabien blubbered effortlessly. "You got a lotta toenails for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Tanya took his hand with a bilious simper. "You know, sweet pea, you're kinda stubborn when you're angry."
Fabien chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another glass of grape juice," he cajoled.