Yes, I can hear your snickers

Have you ever had one of those moments where during the process of judging someone’s actions you realize you’re doing the same thing?  Say, for instance, you’re complaining about all the people at the grocery store buying milk and bread before a snow storm only to realize that you’re only mad because you are there as well, and to make matters worse, you have both milk and bread on your list.  I don’t know how to describe those moments.  Maybe they’re surreal, or eye opening, or sobering.  Maybe they’re enlightening, or humbling, or simply pathetic.  I had one of those moments recently concerning a level of geek few ever approach.

I was at the mall game shop looking for a certain item.  Oh, okay, I’ll just tell you it was the geek game store and I was looking for Dungeons and Dragons.  Don’t judge me!  Yes, I can hear your snickers.  It is a noble pursuit, and if you don’t believe me, I have an Elvin magic broadsword and enough hit points to demand your acquiescence.  Should you refuse, I could feed you to a troll.  I have one near my castle.  At any rate, I was in the store listening to the geek speak reach glorious, prom missing, date losing levels of social isolation.  You could spot them from anywhere in the mall.  The meth heads flutter their eyelids and fail to dilate their pupils as they utter incoherent phrases.  The low end of the bell curve and those with severe concussions say “Yo” and “I ain’t got none” as they trip on their pants.  Those new to American soil chop their words as they try to get me to buy a remote controlled helicopter from a kiosk selling jewelry and phone cases.  But the geeks stand out.  They speak clear and fast using words like leviathan and Klingon.  When the people tracking in dirt from their boots say Klingon, it sounds unclean, an uncouth utterance of a grooming problem.  When the geeks say Klingon, it is elegant, and sad.  The geeks continue with phrases such as “The orb of chaos throws everything into complete disarray” and “You are as dull as a dwarf’s hammer – that’s why they call it the orb of chaos.”  I don’t know whether to be impressed they know words such as chaos and leviathan or stunned at their attempt to fit a square social peg into a round social hole.  My first thought is, “At least they don’t have the smelly type of Klingon.”  Then I realized I was considering all this in a geek store looking for Dungeons and Dragons.  I chose to be impressed.  I also chose to ask the square social peg how to get a pixie to trust you while holding a broadsword.  One man’s social awkwardness is another’s charisma.