I guess that makes me a nerd, or a geek, or a dweeb, or a whatever (except everyone knows that's Gonzo the Great). I'm fine with that, except I really didn't know that I resided in nerd-dom until someone challenged my belonging. The conversation happened at the last Gen Con when I sat down to play a game with three friends and a guy we didn't know.
GUY: (small talk about tv shows we watch)... and I love Community, but unfortunately it's going to suck now that Dan Harmon left.
ME: (being awesome) I don't ever get to see Community since I don't have cable and can only watch TV on the internet. I'm surprised that such a niche-type show is so hard to find online. My favorite sitcom is the Big Bang Theory...
GUY: (Interrupting douchebag) No self-respecting nerd would ever like that show. The characters are stereotypes of everything we stand for, and the physics they are supposedly <finger quote> experts <finger quote> in is so subpar and generally, flat out wrong. Why are you even here?
ME: You're mean.
That night I went home,
Nerdity has quietly swept into my psyche without me even knowing it, even as I broke swimming records and attended social functions. Creeping like a ninja with a pocket protector, I've been stabbed in the back by a +5 vorpal sword of geek. Shame on you, mean gaming guy (who smelled of Cheetos and broken dreams) for doubting my nerd allegiance. And shame on me for not realizing it sooner.
But really, aren't we all nerds. Yeah, I'm talking to you, guy who spent all night camped out in front of the Apple store for a new iPhone 5. And you, mom who wasted two hours just to get off of level 167 of Candy Crush. And even you, dude who obsesses over the choice to take DeMarco Murray or Montee Ball in the 7th round of your 5th fantasy football league. The sooner we all admit it, the sooner we can stop the nerd rage and all live in harmonious splendor. Well, until Star Wars, Episode VII.