The rain was pouring down outside O’Connor’s Irish Pub.
There, standing in front of a big puddle outside the pub was an old Irishman, drenched, holding a stick, with a piece of string dangling in the water.
A passer-by stopped and asked him, “What are you doing?”
“Fishing.” replied the old man.
Feeling sorry for the old man, the gent says, “Come in out of the rain and I’ll buy you a drink.”
In the warm ambience of the pub, as they sip their whiskies, the gentleman, being a bit of a superior smart ass, cannot resist asking,
“So how many have you caught today?”
The old man sipped his whiskey, and said,
“You’re the 8th”