There I was sitting at the bar gazing at my beverage when a huge, troublemaking biker ventures up beside me, gets my beverage and swallows it down in one drink.
“What are you going to do about it?” he says, menacingly, as I all of a sudden burst into tears.
“Goodness, come on, man,” the biker says, “I didn’t think you’d CRY. I can’t see a man crying.”
“This is the most noticeably awful day of my life,” I say. “I’m a finished disappointment. I was late to a meeting and my supervisor let go me. When I went to the parking area, I discovered my vehicle had been stolen and I don’t have any insurance. I lost my wallet in the taxi I took home. I discovered my love in bed with the plumber, and after that my puppy bit me.”
“So I resulted in these present circumstances bar to work up the strength to put a conclusion to it all. I purchase a beverage, I drop a pill in and stay here watching the toxic substance disintegrate; then you, you ass, show up and drink the entire thing! Be that as it may, enough about me, how’s your day going?”
