There I was, sitting at the bar staring at my drink
when a large, trouble-making biker steps up next to
me, grabs my drink and gulps it down in one swig.
"Well, whatcha' gonna do about it?" he says
menacingly, as I burst into tears.
"Come on, man," the biker says, "I didn't think you'd CRY.
I can't stand to see a man crying."
"This is the worst day of my life," I say. "I'm a complete
failure. I was late to a meeting and my boss fired me.
When I went to the parking lot, I found my car had
been stolen and I don't have any insurance. I left my wallet in
the cab I took home, there I found my wife with another man and
then my dog bit me."
"So I came to this bar to work up the courage to put
an end to it all, I buy a drink, I drop a capsule in and sit
here watching the poison dissolve. Then you show up and drink the
whole thing!
But enough about me, how's your day going?"
