You might be a piper if...

You have a whole closet, or even room, in your home dedicated to uniforms and various other pipe band crap.

You have a little unlabelled jar in your fridge you feel compelled to tell your drunk friends not to attempt to eat. This goes double if you lived in residence.

You have been known to travel with one or both of shoe polish and/or silvo... but don't live on a reservation.

You hear about bus trips, and your first though it how many beers you can consume during that time.

Your second though it to bring twice as much as you expect to be able to consume, you know... just in case.

You still arrive with an empty cooler.

Upon arrival anywhere, you immediately find the closest bar, beer store and LCBO.

You know people who you consider friends, but never see outside of a few weeks in the summer, and couldn't get in touch with them even if you tried outside of those few weeks.

Anytime there is an maintenance to be performed on your instrument, it takes on the level of attention typically reserved for a triple or even quadruple by-pass. Except it takes place in your living room.

You have a box or tin filled with some of the most random shit, like 6" long pieces of hockey stick, waxed string, black wax, bee's wax, and depending on how old school you are, a big stick of sealing wax which basically resembles a big candle, but with no wick, various spools of different coloured hemp (that's string, for the record), plumber's tape, at least one exacto knife (usually more) and at least one bag of kitty litter (depending on how non-old school you are).

You have the vaguest idea what even half of the above described shit might be for.

You get a t-shirt and glen tan in May, and just ride it out for the summer, cuz there's nothing you can do about it.

You still have a t-shirt and glen tan in December.

You have an oddly encyclopedic knowledge of small town Ontario (or wherever).

When you consider places to move, you actually spend a few minutes considering what band you could play with (I wish I was kidding).

Every steering wheel and beer bottle become your temporary practice chanter.

You've had a significant other ask you to stop practicing on one of their body parts. More than once.

When there's more than one of you walking anywhere, you almost immediately fall into step.

You've ever seriously contemplated how much amateur carpentry it would take to change a bagpipe into a hookah.

You never really would, as your pipes are like a child to you.