Kilted Piano Sing-Along in Beantown

**Doublewood** · 14th October 06, 08:46 AM

A little follow-up to this post from last week.

http://www.xmarksthescot.com/forum/s...ad.php?t=21448

As I said in another Boston-related post earlier today:

I went out kilted last night (see post here) and had no problems, even walking back to the parking garage a little after midnight in the Theater (read: drunken nightclub) District.

(SWK Nighstalker, earthtone green dress shirt, black hose w/ NS flashes, black shoes, black leather jacket. One of the guys I was with took some pictures. I'll see if he got any good shots and post them here.

I was in the parking garage elevator with two reeeeally drunk guys and their dates (who were far too attractive to be seen with these bums), and one of the girls asked, "Are you afraid of strong breezes?"

Another couple guys I passed on the sidewalk gave a light-hearted Rowdy Roddy Piper remark. All in all, a very positive experience.

The Friday night piano sing-along at Jacob Wirth's is a must-do event. The women there were very kilt-friendly (Yay!! Kiltman!). And, I did hear one "Ooh, that's hot." comment in passing, and the young lady wasn't sipping coffee at the time. Oh, to be young (relatively speaking) and single again.

Anywhere, here's one picture, though you can hardly see the kilt in it, and the write-up from the website of one of the guys who was out with us. There's also a link to my blog there, which some might consider to be not-so "family-friendly" at times. Click at your own risk.

A group of local bloggers (including ye humble scribe) spent last night singing along with Mel Stiller at Jacob Wirth's.

Above, a kilted Bruce from mAss Backwards waits for the next verse of the song of the moment. Bruce was the life of the party, singlehandly out-singing an entire table of young women. Then again, he used to be a Friday-night regular at the sing-along; he even designed the cover on Stiller's lyric books.

At one point, a woman at the bar came over to compliment him on his singing and to ask what he does that he developed such a good voice. "It's his opera background," I said. "You're an opera singer? No, really, what do you do?" she asked. "I'm in construction management," he said. She refused to believe that somebody with such a good voice could be in construction management. But she didn't believe our next suggestion, either, that he was a cop.