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 own 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; and then you show up and drink the whole damn thing!"

"But hell... enough about me... how are you doing??