On being entertainingly, completely wrong.

It should come as no surprise that I'm comfortable with handshake agreements (yes, there's official paperwork to back this one up, but it's more a protective formality than anything). Similarly unsurprising is my extreme distaste for someone who will renege on what is, for lack of a more delicate term, Man Law: You shake a guy's hand and drink his beer, you're honor-bound to do what you said you'd do unless Jerry Bruckheimer or Michael Bay-level shit prevents that. (Yes, I carry a grudge for a dude who did this, and will cheerfully smack him in the face with a shovel if I ever see him.)

That said, I had one of the more entertaining and endearingly reassuring conversations with the general contractor who's going to be handling the renovations yesterday. The GC was at my place with an HVAC expert to do an evaluation of my A/C unit to see if it's up to the job of heating and cooling the additional space (verdict: it isn't, but their proposed solution is exactly what I and my folks were going to suggest if that was the case, so all is well).

I pull up after driving home from the office; I'm in my black Utilikilt and a pair of sneakers, having shucked my shirt because it's hot, sunny, and I like making my own Vitamin D. We shake hands all around, discuss the business at hand, and my GC, obviously trying to get a grip on the situation, asks what I've been doing.

Me: "I did a little working out when I left the office, and didn't bother to get dressed just to drive home."
GC: "Oh, I thought you were a ninja or something."


Best misinterpretation of a kilt yet.