Bob, a little breathless from his encounter with Whats-His-Name, turned and looked the Divorcee in the face. She leaned on the frame of her front door and stared right back. After what seemed a millenia to Bob, she leaned over, running her hand over her satin night gown and down her leg, finally reaching for the paper that had just been deposited on her doorstep.She unfolded herself and looked him in the eye again.
"Somethin' wrong, sugar?" She had a thick southern drawl that pleased Bob imensely, although he wasn't sure why.
"Not at all." Bob replied, smoothing the back of his ruffled hair down.
"Why don't you come on in; I've got breakfast on." She spoke slowly, accentuating the sultry coarseness of her voice.
"Oh gee, thanks but no thanks." Bob heard himself reply politely. He couldn't quite believe he had turned her down but then again, he was on a mission: he had a fight to pick... it was number one on his list of things to do today. He stood in the Divorcee's front garden wondering where the best place to go to get into a fight would be. She gazed at him oddly for a minute. Just as she was turning to go back inside, Bob piped up.
"Hey, I was just on my way over to The Captain's... it's a bar across town. How about you join me?"
She looked surprised. He couldn't tell what she thought of him now, but he peered at her expectantly, nonetheless.