Speechless

I was out and about today, running errands.
Standing at a corner, waiting for a light to change, a man in his fifties walked by with a man who looked to be his father. The father was small, wore a plaid shirt, and seemed to be healthy at first glance.
He stopped and looked me up and down. His face, which had been unreadable, lit up and he tried several times to speak but couldn't manage better than a croaking whisper.
He pointed his arthritic hand at my Black Watch kilt and nodded his pleasure. I shook his hand gently and respectfully thanked him. He patted my hand and went on his way with his son.
I don't know why this guy stuck in my head. I get similar 'comments' every day. Maybe it was the fact that he couldn't speak that got me wondering about him. Was he in the Black Watch or did he just like the kilt being worn casually? Was he even Scottish?
I have this picture of him settling in for bed, thinking about his day, and chuckling in glee about the guy he saw wearing a kilt.
I guess I'll settle for that.

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