So, last night myself, and a few friends ended up at another friend's apartment. She is moving away from the humdrum of this small city and is going back to New Orleans to pursue her culinary education. So, of course, she cooked a fantastic dinner.
I, in the meantime, was celebrating the arrival of some particularly wonderful hose, courtesy of the lovely folks at Hamilton Dry Goods. They are amazing.
After the dinner (which was delicious- good god, that woman can cook!) I went to see The Happening with a friend and my sister. Kilted, of course, the whole night through.
I got a mixture of one reactions. This being a small agricultural town, nobody knows what a kilt is. A little girl stuck her head under it... just because, apparently. A fellow with a popped collar and a backward Aero cap stared until I told him to blink. A group of young girls laughed as they passed, saying to each other, "He's wearing a skirt!" "It's kind of cute; I think I want one like it." During the movie, the lady next to me reached over, caressed my let/kilt and asked, "Where did you get this skirt? It's lovely." On the way out, a series of young snots figured they would laugh, but since I'm about two feet taller than them and have at least a hundred pounds on them, a simple "Something funny?" put a stop to that.

Small towns, I think, are not the best place to go kilted. Heh.