A barfly sat salaciously at the end of the bar. Mario checked himself in the mirror and made his way over to try his luck with the local lush.
Despite his handsome looks and charm, the liquor sponge scoffed at his vain attempts to woo her.
Mario had nearly used every line he had on the introverted carouser. As his importuning began to wind down, he tried one last desperate plea, “I’m perfect for you, cause I’m a cross between a macho and a sensitive man.”
Without even looking up from her drink, the debauchee dryly remarked, “So after all that, you’re telling me you’re a gay trucker?”
