I'm a nerd, of the D&D variety to be exact. I admit it. Still, most people wouldn't necessarily guess that this is the case because I don't look like a social outcast. Which is part of the point I'd like to elaborate on, not all nerds are easily detectable. This blog post will help you to detect other nerds among you, even if they tend to hide it well. Why would I want to do this, you might ask, well for a variety of reasons. It might help you identify others like you if you're a nerd yourself (having "cool" nerd friends might even get you laid), it might help you strike up a conversation with a cute guy you're currently semi-stalking, or it might even give you some fresh material to use while picking on a friend. Whatever the case may be, it's always good to have some insight about the people around you. Before I go into how one can detect the closet nerds, I'll take you on a little recap of the obvious symptoms of nerdiness:
- Hair: Nerd hair is generally a dead giveaway. Although the cut itself is often outdated or unstylish, it's the cleanliness that really sticks out like a sore thumb. I've seen nerds with good haircuts, but the hair is generally greasy and in such disarray that it's hard to tell what the hairstylist was trying to accomplish the last time it was trimmed. Dandruff is also a common affliction.
- Glasses: This can be what the French call a "faux ami", or false friend. Glasses can be an indicator of geekiness, but they are definitely not a necessary nerd accessory! Plenty of nerds have glasses, but keep in mind plenty of people who are NOT nerds have glasses (classic example: Clark Kent...actually bad example, he's a fake superhero that nerds read about).
- Style of Clothing: I think all nerds want to get laid, but they're the people who look the most like they're specifically trying to repel the opposite sex. You know what I mean...The girl who wears long skirts that even your mom says she's too young for with an oversized blouse that just barely matches the hideous pattern hiding her pale legs. Or better yet, picture that boy from your math class who wears tight-legged jeans that end two or three inches above his shoes to reveal sexy, vibrantly white socks paired with a shirt his mother must have picked out. The bottom line here is a nerd's manner of dress is often a dead giveaway.
- Mannerisms: This is a large category that can be further divided into body language and speech patterns. As far as body language is concerned, nerds often slouch. This improper body carriage is probably a result of low self esteem, a common ailment among this particular species of human (a characteristic unfortunately shared by many women though they display it in a very different way). Nerds also have a tendency to speed walk, a quality that I believe they've adopted to minimize the possibility of having to interact with others by making it seem as though they're always in a hurry (even though a nerd is NEVER late for class). When it comes to speaking, it isn't the nerd's tone of voice or even pitch that gives them away, but their manner of speaking. Nerds often speak fast and seem uncomfortable when they talk to you, which is often accompanied by a pained expression on their faces. This is because it actually hurts them to talk to "normal" people for one of two main reasons (though sometimes both); they fear that "normal" people will ridicule them for what they have to say or they feel that you are inferior to the extent that what they say will sound like nonsensical gibberish to the general population. In addition to these complications I've also observed that nerds sometimes also have a speech impediment, of which stuttering is the most prevalent (probably as a result of their aforementioned anxiety towards society as a whole).
Got all that? Good, because this is where it gets tricky. Some nerds are more socially conscious than others and take extra measures to hide their truly lame interests. They dress like you, they talk like you, and they seem to be well-adjusted members of society. Don't be fooled! You can spot a nerd in the unlikeliest of places if you know what to look and listen for. Hairstyle, general clothing style, and glasses are no longer going to give you the truth you seek, so we're going to dig a little deeper....
- Brands/Graphic Ts: Although the general style of closet nerds won't generally give them away, there are small details that can provide you with clues. Of course any T-shirt with a dragon, fairy, magic use of any kind, or dice on it is a giveaway even if their pants are stylish. Also, there are some nerd brands that they may feel comfortable wearing because they think the general populace won't know what those brands represent. These are brands like Wizards of the Coast, Blizzard, and most companies that involve the words guild, adventure, or dragons.
- Social Interactions: It pretty much goes without saying that even the most stealthy closet nerd is bound to have some flat-out geeky friends that associate with them from time to time. If you see some of the aforementioned blatant nerds talking to someone on a regular basis who you may have otherwise believed to be "normal" beware.
- Vocabulary: Sometimes it's hard for others to pick out nerds by listening to their jokes and lingo, but once you know the vocabulary it's like spotting a ogre in a halfling town (you didn't get that did you? But it's exactly what you're looking for). There are far too many words and phrases that come to mind to name them all, so I'll just list of some general pointers. If anyone EVER makes a statement that contains the words "you just rolled a..." or "I just rolled a..." they are a nerd. The most common situation this will occur in is one where someone commits a clumsy or stupid mistake, nerds can't resist telling them, "Wow, you just rolled a 1". If someone claims to have a "plus (insert number)" anything...confused? Here are a few examples: when boasting of superior people skills a nerd might say he has a +5 charisma check, they may also claim to have something like a +1 pencil of writing, or I've often been told I have a +6 spot check. It's cool, I know. Lastly, if you hear them mention mythical or made-up creatures often, chances are it came from the Monster Manual (for those of you who have never heard of such a thing, it's like the Audubon of D&D).
So, while it's harder to pick out a closet nerd, it's by no means an impossible task. Not that I have anything against nerds, like I said I'm a nerd myself. This entry was actually written with my friend Adam in mind. He is a total closet nerd because he fears ridicule. I would visit him at work when he was a bartender at this awesome local bar/restaurant called Choices and want to talk to him about some aspect or other of D&D. If I started the conversation when his coworkers around though, he would shush me until they left because he didn't want anyone to know he played. And yes, I have asked him if he had sand in his vagina; a question he insists on leaving open.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Hello out there
I don't really get into this whole "blog" thing, but other writers do it, Hell, even people who should never have been allowed to touch a pen much less a keyboard are out there doing it too. So, I figured it was about time to jump on the bandwagon to help keep my creative juices flowing (don't worry I'm wearing protection and I just got tested baby). Now here I am without anything much to say and only a scant 10 minutes to think something genius up. This feels kinda funny now that I've come right out and admitted to my lack of material. It feels like you people are looking at me, expecting something (and you are, you're sitting there squinting at your screen right now)....How about we have a little storytime? I'll regale you with the story of the last time I got punched in the face.
When I was a child between the ages of 6 and 11, I had a bit of a superiority complex. Maybe that's not the best word for it...assertive sounds so much nicer, I was a very assertive child. I tended to assert my power over other children in school to help convince them that what I wanted to do was clearly the most fun activity we had available to us. I often convinced groups of girls that it was a good idea to harass the boys in our class using various methods of torture. Most of the time it was just catcalls from across the playground, but we weren't above pinching them too and at times there were all-out fistfights. Though I never really had a clear plan, I always worked toward pissing one or more of the boys off to the point that they would resort to violence. When it finally got to that point I was the first kid on our side to start throwing punches back. I loved to fight and I was good at it, but there were a few times I crossed the line.
I'll always remember the first time I realized "the line" existed, because it was the (aforementioned) face-punching incident. Not that I'd never been hit in the face before, it was just that this time it was repeatedly and I didn't stand a chance. My friend Christina and I were walking home from school one beautiful spring day. An older boy, known for being a "tough kid" at school, was walking leisurely home in front of us. I saw this as a perfect opportunity to start talking some shit; he was a little way ahead of us and would likely ignore me, plus I get to look cool in front of my friend by talking smack to a fifth grader. So I start talking, loudly, to Christina about how I heard Evan's actually nothing but a pussy and mention that I think I could probably take him. He turned around to shoot me a reproachful look, but said nothing and after a moment continued walking. Thinking I'd gotten the better of him I said loudly, "Yeah, you should prob'ly keep walkin' fatty."
With violent speed, he turned on his heels and came at me full charge. He was like a fucking freight train barreling towards, the kid was huge and I could all but see the steam rising from his red face. I might have had time to run, Christina sure as Hell did, but I just stood there in shock. He lept onto me when he got close enough and I fell to my back with him crushing the air out of my lungs. He sat on my chest with his knees pinning my arms and punched me until he was satisfied we understood each other. I understood alright, there was a line and I had clearly crossed it. I'm a little more conscious of such boundries now, though I still have the unfortunate habit of not knowing when to shut up or quit....
When I was a child between the ages of 6 and 11, I had a bit of a superiority complex. Maybe that's not the best word for it...assertive sounds so much nicer, I was a very assertive child. I tended to assert my power over other children in school to help convince them that what I wanted to do was clearly the most fun activity we had available to us. I often convinced groups of girls that it was a good idea to harass the boys in our class using various methods of torture. Most of the time it was just catcalls from across the playground, but we weren't above pinching them too and at times there were all-out fistfights. Though I never really had a clear plan, I always worked toward pissing one or more of the boys off to the point that they would resort to violence. When it finally got to that point I was the first kid on our side to start throwing punches back. I loved to fight and I was good at it, but there were a few times I crossed the line.
I'll always remember the first time I realized "the line" existed, because it was the (aforementioned) face-punching incident. Not that I'd never been hit in the face before, it was just that this time it was repeatedly and I didn't stand a chance. My friend Christina and I were walking home from school one beautiful spring day. An older boy, known for being a "tough kid" at school, was walking leisurely home in front of us. I saw this as a perfect opportunity to start talking some shit; he was a little way ahead of us and would likely ignore me, plus I get to look cool in front of my friend by talking smack to a fifth grader. So I start talking, loudly, to Christina about how I heard Evan's actually nothing but a pussy and mention that I think I could probably take him. He turned around to shoot me a reproachful look, but said nothing and after a moment continued walking. Thinking I'd gotten the better of him I said loudly, "Yeah, you should prob'ly keep walkin' fatty."
With violent speed, he turned on his heels and came at me full charge. He was like a fucking freight train barreling towards, the kid was huge and I could all but see the steam rising from his red face. I might have had time to run, Christina sure as Hell did, but I just stood there in shock. He lept onto me when he got close enough and I fell to my back with him crushing the air out of my lungs. He sat on my chest with his knees pinning my arms and punched me until he was satisfied we understood each other. I understood alright, there was a line and I had clearly crossed it. I'm a little more conscious of such boundries now, though I still have the unfortunate habit of not knowing when to shut up or quit....
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