For the long drive from Cincinnati to Chicago this weekend (six hours, or thereabouts), I decided to wear my black UK mocker and a coordinating casual ensemble. (For the record, it looked as good - for a UK - at the end of the trip as it did when I started.) On Friday, I stopped in at a MacDonalds in the middle of Nowhere, Indiana. This particular McD's was staffed by pudgy, grandmotherly types, who flocked together like a bunch of hens to appraise my kilt, clucking to one another about it while I ordered a snack.

Hen #1: "Are you a Mason?"

Me: "I beg your pardon?"

Hen #1: "Never mind. I guess not."

Hen #2: "Do you play the bagpipes?"

Me: "I play the radio."

Hen #2: "You wha...? Oh! Well, I guess we all do that!"

Clerk: "Here are your three chicken strips. Have a nice day."

Me: "You too."

As I left to return to my car, I heard the hens behind me calling the others in the back to "come, look!" I swear, sometimes I feel like Miss Ohio in the swimsuit competition in an exhibition of poise while being gawked at.

Now, I know we have a couple of Masons among us - but is there ANY reason why someone would think that the kilt is at all indicative of a Mason?

Regards,
Rex in Cincinnati and sometimes elsewhere