The mafioso sitting around the table are growing impatient, waiting for PhilipMarleauJr to show up.  They look at their watches inside the closed Italian restaurant, growing more irritated each passing minute.  Finally, the restaurant door opens and PhilipMarleauJr enters the room visibly out of breath and flushed.

"Phew!  That's some traffic out there!"

"You're late, PhilipMarleauJr." barks one of the capodecinas at him.  "We've been waiting an hour."

"Yes, yes, well, you know, traffic and such, heh," PhilipMarleaJr responds, his voice quivering.  A sit-down had been scheduled to settle an inner-city dispute over territory.  A Made Man had become offended that PhilipMarleauJr was imposing on his turf and demanded a sit-down to rectify the situation.  Unfortunately, there was a shortage of chairs at this particular restaurant, and the only available chair left was a rickety old wooden seat pulled from the back.  PhilipMarleauJr sits down at it.

"OWWWWWW!" The rickety old chair leg snaps upon PhilipMarleauJr sitting down at it, sending PhilipMarleauJr crashing to the floor.  The angry expressions on the other mafiosos' faces are instantly replaced with looks of jubilation as the table erupts into laughter.  PhilipMarleauJr picks himself up off the floor and looks around at the cruel faces laughing at him.  Embarrassed, he runs out of the restaurant, jumps into his model-T, and speeds away, only to find himself stuck in the same traffic that made him late in the first place.

"Oh no, more traffic!" PhilipMarleauJr honks his horn but to no avail.  He sits in his car motionless, now unable to escape the sounds of the laughter targeted at his follies.

"Well, that sit-down didn't go my way at all!" PhilipMarleauJr thought to himself.

But its not wins in life that make us stronger as human beings, its the series of losses we come across along the way.