Only in Seattle would buying clothing involve standing in the middle of the store lobby, having a large bald man stand behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, and then assist you in dropping your trousers to your ankles.

Me in my UtilikiltRick came by my apartment this morning to drop of some checks for a few DVDs that had been bought, and we figured we’d have time to hit breakfast before I had to be at work. Since I’d just gotten a birthday check from Prairie, I suggested a stop on the way to food — and off to Utilikilts we went.

I wasn’t sure if I’d actually be purchasing anything today, as all the kilts are hand-made, and if they don’t have the style/size/color you want on the sales floor, it’s a six to eight week before your custom-ordered kilt will be ready. The guy on the sales floor was quite helpful, though, and luckily enough, they had one of the two styles I had my eye on available in black and in my size.

Not sure if there were dressing rooms or not I started to look around, when he told me to just stand with my back to the front door and undo my belt. He stood behind me with the kilt opened up, then as I undid my fly and let my pants drop, he wrapped the kilt around me. As I worked on the buttons, he noticed that my pants had only dropped about as far as my knees, and proceeded to grab them and give them a quick tug to get them all the way down around my ankles — at which point Rick nearly burst out laughing.

The first kilt was just slightly too short for my legs, so after spending a couple moments waddling around the showroom floor (as I’d not removed my shoes, so my pants were still bunched up around my feet) he brought another kilt out, and with a quick reprise of the switcheroo, we had the second kilt on, which fit perfectly. Quite satisfied at this point, I kicked off my shoes and took my pants off the rest of the way, tossed them in my bag, paid, and we were off to breakfast.

Not fifteen minutes later, as we were walking into the IHOP just off of Broadway, two gentlemen were heading in just before us. “Nice kilt,” said the one holding the door. I grinned, and thanked him. I think I’m going to like this…

After breakfast, Rick ran me down to work. I walked in, and as I walked behind the front counter, I paused for a moment as Valerie and Darcy looked at me. “Okay,” I said. “I think this ought to be acceptable dress code!” They both laughed, and I continued on into the breakroom to find Rob, my manager. Unfortunately, he was on the phone, so I spent a few minutes paging through the employee manual. According to the dress code, “pants, skirt, or dress” are considered acceptable — and as a kilt is in some sense a form of masculine skirt, I’m firmly of the opinion that not allowing me to wear it would be sexual discrimination!

Unfortunately, Rob wasn’t entirely sure of that, and as our regional manager is fairly strict on dress code, it was decreed that I had to put my pants back on for work. Ah, well — it was worth a shot! ;)

I did change back into the kilt before I left, though, and did get an appreciative honk and wave from a cute blonde in a convertible on my way to the bus stop. Rock on! I definitely think I’m going to like this!

iTunes: “Dead Stars” by Covenant from the album United States of Mind (2001, 5:12).

[See also: Dress Code | Different companies, different standards | Black Friday Recap | Men In Kilts | Another convert ]

« Neal Stephenson: Confusion | Word of the Day: Colposinquanonia »