There was a place called Rocky Sullivan's in nyc, used to be in the East 20s, that had IRA collection cans on the bar. One summer afternoon in the mid-'90s (the Troubles were still going on in Ulster) I went in on my own and asked for a beer. No other customers in there. Bartender served me and we started talking but when he heard my accent he took the beer away, gave me back the money and said "you can leave now." I told him he must be kidding and he said, very quietly, no but if you don't believe me I know a good dentist for you.
I left.