Vietnam, Dancing, and Boulders

[Roan Carter]

I was kilted all night at a party tonight, in my WPG McKenzie. I'm 21, and my friend just got his first home out in the sticks where he can blast music as loud as he wants all night long. So naturally it's a good place to be kilted and do whatever.

There was a vietnam veteran at the party tonight. He was an elder folk, and we enjoyed his company for the most part. But as the night went on and the bubbly stuff started vanishing, our language went down to the Saxons and our behavior was just as crude.

I'm a bald guy in a kilt. So naturally I stand out, and he started calling me Cujack, Cojack, something, and Roudy Roddy Piper. Oh my lord it never stopped. We humored him at first but then it went all awry. He caught on to the fact that we were laughing at his eccentricities and he went utterly psycho. He picked up a boulder from the campfire and threatened to kill someone. We stared in silence at him. I said "Look, it's an Englishman!" and when everyone was confused, I ran off to my car. He said something but I didn't hear it.

On the positive side, I danced a lot throughout the evening, and several girls were tugging at the fabric of the kilt. This was definitely a night for a heavyweight kilt.