There was a young man and his friends going to the pub for the night. As they were walking towards the pub; he spots an old man, sitting on a milk crate, with a fishing pole and a line, cast into a puddle in the bitumen. The young man feels pity for this old man; and says to his friends "I'll meet you guys inside in a moment." He then walks up to the old man and asks if he would like a beer. The old man accepts the offer and they go inside for a drink. The young man figures he should try to make conversation with this old timer. He asks "So how many did you catch?" The old man takes a sip of his beer, puts the beer down, and says "You're the eighth."