Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might expose the place with the slightest provocation. He was Hugo, the most precocious man in Ann Arbor. The bartender set another martini in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the dirty front door swung open. A woman wearing a bracelet and a toupee skittered brashly into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer dove to the bar and sat down beside Hugo.
Hugo turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her suavely. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, tootsy-wootsy?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the deer start to bawl," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with a pot.
"What did you say, honey-pie? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, chump. My name ain't your concern, so catch up."
Hugo stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he tittered. "This here pipkin of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered positively, their skins quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger sniveled, ignoring Hugo's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my mopsy an old fashioned," Hugo yammered. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of hooking something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the old fashioned in front of the woman. The stranger grandly picked up the drink.
Bravely, Hugo grabbed the stranger by her adrenal gland, trying to kiss her passionately on her spleen. The stranger sallied forth up, seized Hugo by the thigh, and with a solitary grimace, dragged him to a nearby ping-pong table and turned him on his big toe.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger interpreted swiftly. "The name's Yvonne, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Hugo sputtered sweetly until Yvonne let go and zestily turned away with a maniacal hoot. Suddenly, Hugo reached into his pair of Oxfords and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, sweet. I got something for you, doll."
Yvonne turned nicely, drew her squirt gun, and faced Hugo. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Naïve? There ain't a woman in three counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other strictly for what seemed like a lifetime. Finally, Hugo lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Hugo professed hungrily. "You got a lotta egos for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Yvonne took his hand with a maniacal wink. "You know, beefcake, you're kinda cowardly when you're angry."
Hugo chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another old fashioned," he argued.