As I might have accidentally mentioned in passing, about three weekends ago I was up in Tennessee and Kentucky. While there, I took advantage of their Open Carry laws and, well, carried openly.
(Legal Note: TN only allows OC if you have a recognized concealed carry permit, whereas KY allows full open carry without any kind of permit.)
The first time I OC'd in public was when I met Oleg for lunch. He took me to a Thai restaurant, because I love Pad Thai and will eat it any chance I get. My holster was completely outside my clothes; Oleg had his inside his pants, but outside of his shirt. I dubbed this style "subtle carry", as it provided all the benefit of OC while keeping his pistol mostly concealed.
No one gave us any hassle about it, but I didn't expect any. I thought it might feel weird to OC in public, but I didn't -- perhaps it was because I was with another OCer, or perhaps it was because I knew we were in a state where OC had been legal for some time and expected people to be cool with it.
Then I went up to Kentucky for the Bidet Shoot and OCed the entire time. Again, no problems, although I felt some eyes on me at the hotel. Of course, I was nearly always in the company of three tall and burly men who were also OCing, which might have had something to do with it. I didn't see anyone else OCing, however.
It was on my way back that someone finally said something about my OC. I was at a truck stop in Tennessee, paying for gas & munchies at the counter, when someone behind me said "Aww, what a cute little gun!" My immediate reaction was to be annoyed, because the tone of voice sounded mocking; I inferred a kind of What a tiny, useless little popgun you have intent from him.
I could have made a big deal out of it. After all, don't anti-gun folks think we're all insecure and compensating for something? Surely I pulled out my gun and shot him for being insulting to me, right?
Well, no. I didn't do that, because I am a responsible human being who understands consequences.
Instead, I took a breath, turned around, smiled and said "Thank you!" in as bright a tone as possible. "I have small hands," at this point I waggled my fingers to demonstrate, "so a small pistol fits me just fine!"
So engaged, he asked me "So what is that? Glock 26 or 27?" It turns out this fellow just suffered from asshole voice, which is the verbal equivalent of bitchy resting face, and actually thought my gun was cute.
We talked a bit about carrying, and he mentioned that he preferred 1911s -- fortunately we avoided the 9mm vs .45 argument -- and I earned Geek Superiority by proclaiming that I had just returned from a blogshoot where I had shot an AR-50.
As he left, he said "Don't let them take your rights away!" to which I replied "I won't!" and then, to my utter surprise, the matronly woman behind him -- who, to steal a line from Lewis Black, looked like "Protestantism had sprung from her womb" -- nodded sagely and said "Amen."
Oh, Tennessee. You seem like such a nice place to live. If only you didn't have vampires and douchebags setting up checkpoints on your highways, I'd be inclined to move there.
So anyway, that was the degree to which people commented on my Open Carry of a pistol. I am pleased that my first time was so easy and uncomplicated!