Sometimes complements are a bit roundabout.
I was walking [kilted] along Commercial Drive with my lovely lady when out of one of the sports bars staggered a large, very inebriated man. We exchanged glances: I could tell he was thinking hard through the fog and after a couple of failed attempts to connect the various body parts to the speech centre, he blurted out "Takes BALLS to wear THAT!" My partner flashed him a smile, which was met with a drunken chuckle and a thumbs up: "Right on!"