The funniest man I ever met was an unrelenting stoic. He never laughed. He never smiled. He never pet the neighborhood dogs. Yet, he was so damn funny.
He told the best stories. Long, ridiculous tales of failure and desperation, that were at once familiar and wondrous in their odd details.
Everyone in the bar would buy him drinks to keep him in the bar and keep him talking. Everyone laughed at his stories. Everyone except him. He never laughed.
Then he died. At his funeral we met the wife we didn’t know he had. She didn’t laugh much either.