The words on the sign that hung outside the bar gleamed: "Black Jack's Bar." After I jumped off my five-speed mountain bicycle and took off my helmet, I confidently walked up to the radiant building. I performed a last minute check of my appearance in an outside mirror. I slicked back my hair and tucked my tie-dye shirt inside of my tight blue jeans. Looking so sexy, I was ready to accomplish my goal for the night: to be flirtatious, and secure a lady's telephone number in hopes of getting a date.
             My eyes surveyed the vicinity for irresistible women. At first, I did not see any desirable women; however, my eyes were soon affixed upon a beautiful blonde-hair woman with long legs. I decided to approach her.
             I asked her, "Are you tired?"
             She responded in a soft voice, "No. Why do you ask?"
             I then answered nonchalantly, "Because you have been running through my mind all night."
             She erupted into laughter. I couldn't understand why she had laughed at my pick-up line, which is a famous cliche used to get dates. I decided that this lady wasn't for me. I was a little disappointed, but I didn't quit. I put more oil in my hair and was ready to proceed. I returned to my seat at the bar. I needed a drink to make me feel better so I ordered a scotch and water. Better hold the scotch. As the bartender handed me my drink, a young-looking brunette entered the bar. She walked in and sat down next to me; I had never seen such beauty before. I did nothing at first out of fear; however, I remembered my objective for the night and prepared a speech.
             I slid over to her and said, "Your feet must hurt."
             She retorted, "No, not really. Why?"
             "Because you just fell from heaven, angel," I replied.
             The brunette departed immediately for some unknown reason. I was dumbfounded. On any other night, I would have had two women in my arms. I
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