Here's another fun kilt story. Several weeks ago I was in Las Vegas with a few friends. One night, my friend Shannyn and I were wandering the boulevard for no good reason. She wasn't wearing a kilt. I was wearing my Pride of Scotland tartan. So there we are, crossing over on a pedestrian overpass. We get to the other side to the down escalator when a huge gust of wind blows right up my kilt. Needless to say, in a hot oven like Vegas, it felt rather nice. Shannyn told me it was a good thing I was wearing underwear that time. Then I hear a voice of a woman behind me say "I'm glad that he was." I guess it's a good thing I was wearing a good heavy sporran...(to cover the under-sporran)
That was my Marylin Monroe moment in Vegas.