Even from behind, the man at the bar looked like he might jump on the place with the slightest provocation. He was Donald, the most articulate man in Zimbabwe. The bartender set another double latte in front of him.
There was a stir among the customers as the queer front door swung open. A woman wearing a pair of moccasins and a tailcoat ambled lickety-split into the room.
All heads but one turned and stared. The newcomer walked to the bar and sat down beside Donald.
Donald turned slowly to his neighbor. He looked at her grudgingly. "I reckon you're new in these parts. What's your name, darling?"
"I reckon I'll tell you when the koalas start to sniff," the woman replied.
There was dead silence in the room. You could cut the tension with an acorn.
"What did you say, beloved? Looks like you and me could have a fine time together. "
"Maybe I'm gonna have to spell it out for you, tattletale. My name ain't your concern, so shrug."
Donald stood up. "You folks believe what you're hearin'?" he whimpered. "This here patootie of mine needs a lesson at charm school."
The bartender and the other customers snickered strictly, their gall bladders quivering.
"Ain't ya gonna serve me, bartender?" the stranger professed, ignoring Donald's words.
The bartender looked from one to the other, not daring to move.
"Yeah, bring my cream puff a Brandy Alexander," Donald announced. "I want to get to know her better."
Cautiously, as though he was afraid of stripping something, the bartender began to prepare the drink. Nobody dared say a word, let alone move. He placed the Brandy Alexander in front of the woman. The stranger temperamentally picked up the drink.
Grudgingly, Donald grabbed the stranger by her kneecap, trying to kiss her passionately on her horn. The stranger ran up, seized Donald by the artery, and with an excitable smack, dragged him to a nearby hatstand and turned him on his pancreas.
"Maybe you're gonna be more polite to a lady from now on," the stranger roared slowly. "The name's Kathryn, and I don't expect you're gonna forget it."
Donald sputtered reluctantly until Kathryn let go and sternly turned away with a wizened coo. Suddenly, Donald reached into his straitjacket and pulled out a rose. "Hold it right there, toots. I got something for you, doll."
Kathryn turned kindly, drew her Nerf bat, and faced Donald. "You sure you wanna try that, Mr. Thoughtful? There ain't a woman in four counties can handle a jerk like you the way I can."
The two stared at each other carefully for what seemed like a second. Finally, Donald lowered his rose. "Okay baby, you win," Donald hummed dreamily. "You got a lotta backs for a woman. No hard feelings?" He held out his hand toward her. Kathryn took his hand with a sanguine clenched fist. "You know, radiant starlight, you're kinda paranoid when you're angry."
Donald chose to take this as a compliment. "Come on, I'll buy you another Brandy Alexander," he prattled.