"HOW'S YOUR DAY GOING?"

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 old lady in bed with the gardener 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 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?"