On this particular occasion, the patrons were holding a wake to celebrate the life of one of their dear friends, who happened to be laid out in an open casket along the wall across from the bar. The place was roaring with laughter, as they told stories about the deceased gentleman, who I knew quite well, if only from sight, having seen him in the pub many times before. I couldn't get my head around the notion that he was actually dead and everyone seemed to think it was funny, such was my five year old take on the situation. When I finally plucked up the courage to venture over and peek inside the casket, an old Irish guy came over to me and whispered in my ear, "It's okay, son. You can pet him. He won't bite you, that's for sure." And off he went, bellowing with laughter, as he walked to the men's room. Ah, the good old days!