Real Bad Day.

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. 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
thing!

But, enough
about me, how are you doing?"