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Peter
Burch
There I was, sitting by myself at the bar staring at
my untouched drink. Suddenly, a 6' 8" tattooed
biker steps up next to me and grabs my drink. He
then grins at me and gulps down my drink in one
swig.
"Well, whatcha gonna do about it?" he says, menacingly,
as I burst into tears.
"This is the worst day of my life," I say to him. "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, then I drop a capsule
in and sit here watching the poison dissolve. Then
you, you idiot, show up and drink the whole
thing! But enough about me. How's your day going?”
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