curiosity killed the kilted

I volunteered all day yesterday at the Calgary International Reggae Festival. I told Seema, the coordinator, that I'd do anything all day so long as I could hear the music. I wore the Utilikilt PJ got me for my birthday on Friday. It's a kilt made for the non-Scottish/Irish lad that wants to be free. I'm sure a picture or two will be posted later. Anyway, back to the festival.
I started out selling slushes to children for 4 hours, then tearing tickets and snagging arm hair while applying sticky bracelets around wrists for 4 and a half hours. It was hot and busy. I ended the evening trading Big Rock Brewery products for little tickets in the beer garden.I was in there for 5 hours...shut it down! Long day for sure.
And of course,I noticed a few things throughout the day.
People are beautiful !! I knew this already of course, but if you're ever at a music festival, just sit back and watch people talking, walking and dancing. Pj is contemplating dreadlocks, so of course people with dreads became my photo target.
Reggae song lyrics deal with many subjects, including faith, love, relationships, poverty, injustice and other broad social issues. A cool rhythm thrown in makes it a favorite music genre of mine.
Now, mix happy Jamaican women walking around in packs, a windy day, and a man in a kilt who apparently looks way younger than he is, and you get some very interesting events playing out. (Thanx Pj)
Four men commented on my kilt. 3 guys I guessed to be in their late 20's and an older Calgary Police Officer that looked too close to his pension to worry about "petty infractions". I love that attitude by the way, a senior officer that doesn't bother with power-tripping. 2 of the guys wanted info to buy kilts, and one guy had three Utilikilts of his own! The cop thought it was one of the coolest things he saw. I loved his comment, "some kind of a gawd-damned Englishman's cross between military shorts and a kilt..."...BINGO!
I lost count of how many women asked me "the aged old question". Women of all ages. Pretty young woman I carded in order to allow them into the Beer Garden ( 18 years old in Alberta) and giggling, older, fat and happy Jamaican women that probably had teen-aged children just moving away from home. The older Jamaican women would ask me what I wore underneath my kilt the way you might question an iffy butcher about the age of his meat. (whoops, no pun intended...sorry. Thats what came to mind just then. Glad it didn't last night....)
Imagine seeing this play out. Only Pj knows for certain what could embarrass me or make me happily uncomfortable. This was one such moment. I'll set it up for you.
I finish a shift and head to the food tent to redeem a coupon for food. There are about 20 women and girls in there...and me on a hot windy day. 3 woman, I guessed to be related, were sitting on those white, formed lawn chairs with their big beautiful bums spilling out the sides and over the edges. You can see the silk dresses straining under the happy, giggling pressure. I don't know how they were going to get out of those chairs. Happy as all get out and chatting with that gorgeous accent amongst themselves, and in walks Spoke.
As I walk past the women and give my hellos, I begin to hear comments, fragmented sentences.
" uuuhmmm, kilt is it." " walkin' the way he do..." "what he wear gurl" "he got.......man"
I have to stand right beside them while I get my food.
The younger of the two asked me straight up if she had to ask me that age old question. I'm thinking, what? You want me to just randomly hike it up here and there so no-one has to ask "that question"?
I say "what question?" and the older one gets in kinda mean like....
" What up your dress mun?"
"Pardon me"
" Don be funny wit me mun, what you wear under dat ting?"
This woman is about 50 years old sitting with a younger woman, her daughter, who is just losing it with embarrassed laughter. Everyone is kind of waiting to see how this will play out. I'm sure if this was 3 guys and a girl in a skirt, the cops would be thumpin' the guys by now.
I laughed and told her that I'm never going to answer that question unless my wife is standing beside me.
She wasn't keen on that answer. I deduced that she usually gets what she wants, and she wasn't getting it. I thought it best that I made some distance between me and her hands...and fast! As I was walking out of the tent seeking the safety and security of other men, I couldn't help feel sorry for anyone that crosses that lady. She was tough! I bet if she could've gotten out of that chair quickly, she'd have found the answer to her daughter's question.
I looked back, and she was still looking at me while the others laughed whole heartedly. She was still talking...at me apparently. At least she wasn't following me...yoiks!
Later on, in the beer garden, we could drink as much as we liked so long as we moved from the serving area to the consumption area. I thought I'd consume the new Big Rock XO lager...I don't love lager, and this one didn't change my mind either. Anyway, a pretty woman a bit older than me asked me what I wore under "it". She had been consuming too...far more than I had done. I told the bit about about my wife not being here so I'd not give an answer...she put her hand on the side of my right leg below the knee and started moving it up. She said " Perhaps I'll just fine out for meself..."
Ok, she totally broke my security bubble big time. I panic, frozen...what to do now? I felt like I was 18 again and no where to run.
She saw how nervous I had become and laughed loudly and removed her hand. Whew, narrow escape! Back to the safety of the serving area. Good grief, I felt like some sort of prey.
Now, imagine, big tubs filled with iced cold beer. 2 feet high sitting on the grass behind the servers, and one of the servers is in a kilt. Golly, I'd go to the kilt guy too, in order to make him bend over and rummage through the tub. Who wears a kilt while working a beer garden?? Thanx Pj.
I was a busy little server! Fortunately, my friends in Seattle at Utilikilt foresaw the "inevitable bend over" and designed the kilt to preserve a man's secrets...
Everything was normal for about 3 hours, and then I heard a voice...
"Are ya ever gone show what under dat ting?" My skin crawled and I got scared. But it was a false alarm. It wasn't the chair lady.
But it WAS the hand lady. She was elegantly dressed standing off to the side. I recognized her from several conversations earlier in the day, and the "hand". She had beaming eyes, dreadlocks, a bright red top and black slacks. I'd say she was the manager of one of the bands. She was with two women and a big beautiful man with a full beard and dreads. I'd say that their clothes were culturally upper class Jamaicain. They had been at that side table most of the night. She seemed..."distracted" by something.
It was now "last call" for drinks,and many people were beginning to leave. Not her though.
"Will you ever show us mun?" She wasn't laughing any more, she had a grin from ear to ear but I think she was dead serious this time 'round.
Some of the women working with me said that I should flash her from afar...hmmmm, were they too assuming something? Ummmm, no dice.
Fortunately, the police were on hand to help everyone leave. As she walked out, she kept looking at me as her group passed by the front of my booth. She REALLY wanted to know!
Curiosity is a powerful thing really and I had the Power!!!
If nothing else, I've learned to never leer at any woman except Pj. Not that I do, but if I'm ever distracted by a woman, I never want her to feel awkward.
I think the only woman that gave me some concern, was the one in the food tent. I had to go back there later on and they were still there. All she said was "Well?" while the others began giggling again.
I told her my wife wasn't here.
You know, I don't think I've ever asked a woman what she was wearing under her skirt or dress. I don't think I could do that in a manner that seemed, well...innocent.