A burly biker storms into a bar, his leather jacket soaked, and his face twisted with frustration.
He slams his hand on the counter and growls, “Give me your strongest drink. I’m so mad, I can’t even think straight.”
The bartender, noticing the biker looks like he’s been through a rough day, quietly pours him a double shot of whiskey.
The biker downs it in one gulp and grumbles, “Another.”
As the bartender pours the second drink, he asks, “What’s got you so worked up, man? Sounds like you’ve got a story to tell.”
The biker sighs and leans on the bar. “You wouldn’t believe it.
I was riding through town when I stopped at a little café. This stunning woman walks up to me, all smiles, and says she loves motorcycles.
We start chatting, and before I know it, she invites me to her place for dinner. I thought I hit the jackpot.”
He takes another sip and continues, “We get to her place, and she tells me to make myself comfortable while she freshens up. I’m sitting there, feeling like the luckiest guy alive, when suddenly, we hear keys jingling at the door. Her face goes pale, and she whispers, “Oh no, my boyfriend’s back! Quick, hide!”
The bartender raises an eyebrow. “Uh-oh. What did you do?”
The biker shakes his head. “I panicked. The closet? Too obvious. Under the couch? No way. Then I see the window. With no other options, I climb out and hang from the windowsill.”
The bartender whistles. “That’s rough, man.”
“Oh, it gets worse,” the biker says.
“The boyfriend comes in, yelling, ‘Where is he?’ He’s tearing the place apart flipping the couch, throwing furniture.
Meanwhile, I’m hanging outside, praying he doesn’t look out the window. Then, I heard him say, ‘What’s that noise?’ I think I’m done for.
“But the woman distracts him, and I think I’m safe. Until I hear water running. Next thing I know, he dumps a pot of boiling water out the window right on me!” The biker pulls up his sleeve, revealing red burns.
The bartender winces. “That’s brutal.”
“Wait, it gets worse!” the biker says, holding up his swollen hands.
“The guy slams the window down and I start to lose my grip on the window sill!”
The bartender shakes his head. “Man, I’d be furious too. What a day.”
The biker slams his fist on the bar. “But that’s not even the worst part!”
“What could be worse than that?” the bartender asks, bewildered.
The biker groans. “After all that, I looked down and realized I was only two feet off the ground!”