I know somebody who was in a bar in Belfast when two female American tourists ambled in and asked the barman if he could make them up a drink called an Irish Car Bomb.
The barman reeled in shock. Appalled customers gasped in horror.
None of this appeared to fizz on the pair of travellers who didn't even notice offence had been taken until a member of the bar staff inquired politely would they not also feel a little upset if someone walked into a bar in their native New York and asked for a cocktail called, say just for example, a 9/11. ... ?
One of the women immediately burst into tears. "I can't believe you just said that to me," she cried.
Er, and what about the Irish Car Bomb business?
The Irish Car Bomb is apparently still failing to register as tasteless in the extreme in some sections of Irish America.
This week we learn that a baker who operates under the name of Cutie Pies has been flogging her wares with considerable success at a New York food market.
Her Irish Car Bomb pie - based on the aforementioned drink - has sold out. A triumph of cupcake and callousness.
Needless to say your woman has Irish forefathers which makes it OK presumably to flog a not-so-cutie-pie named after an infernal device which ripped apart the lives of thousands of men, women and children in Ireland.
What is wrong with these people - the woman who sees no harm or hurt in her vile wee buns and the people who eagerly snap them up?
It's important to keep these things in perspective of course. One nasty piece of work doesn't represent all of Irish America.
But the fact that calling food and drink after a mass murder weapon is seen as a bit of a joke there - a clever marketing device even - does say something.
Something pretty stomach turning.