Tonight, I went to trivia with some friends, and had a good time. Up until the last question, we were a point behind the leader, and lost due to the simple fact that I couldn’t remember the name “Agatha Christie.” But I was certainly pleased and impressed with the wealth of random knowledge that our team was capable of knowing, and I’m pretty sure that we could win one of these days in the future if this were to become a legitimate reoccurring thing.
But anyway, this trivia was held at none other than a fairly obvious nerd hangout; the same place where I enjoyed a birthday party just days prior, filled with large TVs for people to play console games on, which kind of makes me question the legality, as well as several stations for people to play PC games, but most importantly, an impressive set up of Rockband for people to channel their inner rock stars. All this in place, and the simple fact that I’m a notorious people-watcher, I’m watching the people come and go, play trivia and drink boozahol. Naturally, this means I’m checking out the girls in the place, because that is what I do, being the sometimes-ronery, single male that is sort of thinking about the importance and desire to one day settle down.
Somewhere in the last few years or so, it’s become socially acceptable, and even ridiculously popular to be, well, nerds. But like most things that are suddenly green-lit, the masses and the hordes and the collectives take it overboard, and more or less ruin it for everyone. One day, I’d love to hook up with a nerdy chick. Every nerdy chick I meet these days that I find appealing is spoken for and/or married. Now I’m not the guy necessitating the WAHmbulance to take me away, because I know there’s no such thing as a finite amount of appealing women out there, but I have to say, it certainly feels dismal, looking at the pool sometimes. And the irony is that most of these chicks are also spoken for, and/or married, but if they weren’t, I’m not quite so sure all the Killian’s Red in the joint would make me think about some of these girls.
Dyed hair (coming from someone who used to dye his own hair a myriad of colors), mo-hawks, faux-hawks, trashy chicks, freak chicks, corset chicks, and even fucking 4chan-looking lolitas showed up to this place. Not a single one in the entire building held a spark of appeal that could trump the two girls in my own company, and they’re fairly nerdy in their own right. The first beer I had was the appetizer, the second one was to accompany my meal, but the third one, was a combination of just having something to touch and nurse, while I disgustedly looked around a bar full of disappointment. Not being fat and plump does not automatically make you sexy; an overall presentation is still necessary, but seeing as how many of them have already managed to snag some trainwreck of a guy with Matisyahu-like facial hair, or the odd niche of nerds that wear kilts in public, it’s not necessarily their realm to care anymore, I suppose.
So this is why I’m still single, aside from the sheer lack of trying. I don’t want to say that I’m better than anyone, but I do like to think I have some standards. Unfortunately for me, I have this unwavering unwillingness to lower my expectations just so I don’ t feel so alone in the world. This is why I probably won’t be snagging a nerd chick any time soon, because most of them are simply too overboard for my preference.
