There I was sitting at the bar staring at my drink when the door swung open and a noisy biker gang invaded the darkened room.
The leader of the pack sits down 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 grown 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. I cleaned out my desk, but when I carried the first box 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 in bed with the gardener and then to finish it off my damned 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, you jack-ass, show up and drink the whole thing! But enough about me, how's your day going? "