Years ago when I lived in very rural northern New England, some friends in a populated area sent a visitor to me that was 55 and getting divorced. Lived with his mom. He was a tightly wound wreck and they figured I would kill him or cure him. A city guy really out of his element but was doing pretty well.
Anyway, he never got the "how to dress" thing figured out and when we went to an outdoor fiddle concert with a blind date for him, everyone brought a blanket and sat in the neighbor's field to watch. My friend was wearing totally inappropriate clean khaki city pants and a really nice city shirt and managed to sit in the remnants of a partially dried cow-pie. He never knew such a thing existed despite some cows being in the field. The resulting stain was a sight to behold but we did the best we could the rest of the day.