:o ;D ;D ;D
Many years ago, I regularly attended a very large several week long medieval reenactment/fair/camporee in Western PA. One of the regular warnings given to kilt-wearing participants was that they should wear underwear, since there were nests of ground wasps about the grounds.
That’s not the worst of it, though.
One year, I was helping out in the first aid tent (actually run more as a field triage center, since it was mostly staffed by ER nurses and EMTs who just couldn’t leave their jobs at home). At the time, there were a significant number of attendees who treated the event like a continuous party, and, of course, some people just can’t hold their liquor.
So, one night at ca. 2 a.m. the medics bring in some poor schlub who’d just turned 21 and had decided to celebrate by blacking out the entire night’s events. At some point, he’d stepped into the bushes to relieve himself, which was simple enough because he was wearing a kilt in the authentic fashion. (“Highlander” was the shiznits at the time, so there were battalions of Duncan McCleod wannabes.) Unfortunately, this turkey’s brain chose just that moment to turn off - he must have had a BAC of at least 3.0.
So, he pitched face forward into the weeds, unconscious.
With his kilt up around his waist.
Into a big patch of poison oak.
The first aid team had to use latex gloves and lots of rubbing alcohol to clean him up before he could be transported. I don’t envy his experience the next day, waking up in a hospital with the hangover from hell and itchy red welts all over his privates.
oh no, pennsic stories, don’t get me started.
Wow, and they stayed married after that brawl? Why was he sitting on her lap? She bigger than him?
Nothing “causes” drunken brawls at Scottish weddings. They just are. Some things in this universe just are. Best to just accept that and move on.
Confucius say: No wipe, no white.
The older I get the more I can understand the appeal of a kilt. That being said, I will cringe every time I think of the poisen oak story. :o
Scottish, Irish, German doesn’t really matter, if boys are gonna fight ya better let 'em.
I was royally and completely drunk by my “the end” of our wedding reception, about 11:30PM. Way beyond driving but I still remember the whole thing. It went till 5:00 AM the next day when Mom got up and made the remaining revelers breakfast.
That couple will most likely live an interesting life and have many stories to be told at their 50th. ;D
Paul
That’s one of my biggest fears when wearing a kilt…white furniture. :-\
Mine is dirty furniture. I’m not worried about what I’ll leave behind, I’m worried about what will get on my behind. You’ve got to tuck the kilt under you.
My biggest fear would be unsanded furniture.
We got married in France and had a traditional French country wedding that required drinking wine, eating and dancing from noon until sunup. I had to drive my FIL’s 20 year old Citroen with a trombone slide shifter from th village to the house, about 1.5 miles. I never got out of first gear or even fast enough for the speedometer to register so we got there safely. That was 30 years ago, I’ve learned a little since then.