There I was sitting at the bar staring at my drink when a large, Tattooed biker steps up next to me, grabs my drink and gulps it down in one swig.
“Well, whatcha’ gonna do about it?” he says, with his fist in my face.
As I burst into tears the biker says, “Come on, man,” “I didn’t think you’d CRY, dude I was just messing with ya”
“This is the worst day of my life,” I say. Everything has gone wrong, 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. 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 cyanide capsule in and sit here watching the poison dissolve; and then you show up and drink the whole damn thing!
But hell, enough about me, how are you doing?”