"Well there, girly. What's a sweet thing like you doing in a place like this?"
"Do you have a problem?"
"No, but-" She held up her hand to silence him.
"If you don't have any problem, you little dipshit, then can you please kindly fuck off?" She went back to slurping her milkshake.
"What did you call me, bitch?" She snapped her fingers, clearly and loudly, and the bartender quickly went to the back.
The petite girl stands up quickly, punching the man in the gut, before turning him around so his back is to her breasts. She whips out a knife from her leather jacket, and holds it up; stopping just a few centimeters from his throat.
"Seriously. You expected me to go into the shadiest pub in Paris by myself, without any weapons or combat training? Are you serious?!" She gave a deep, throaty laugh, pushing the dude into his friends.
Then she was gone, leaving enough money from the guy's wallet to cover her milkshake and a generous tip for the bartender.