BEAT MY GEEK

I learned something about myself the other day as I stood in line to see Lord of the Rings for the fourth time. I am, according to the stupid bitch ahead of me in the ticket line, a geek. I know this because I overheard her say it in her bubbly dipshit way to her friend. Who the fuck does she think she is? Is she an authority because, in addition to purchasing Kate and Leopold tickets, she boasted herself as Meg Ryan’s biggest fan? She also stated that, although Hugh Jackman makes her moist in the middle, she “did not like that alien movie where he had those spiky things in his hands.”
I felt my pulse quicken, but fought the urge to whip around and scream, “Look, bitch. I am not a geek. Furthermore, the movie was X-Men, and the character was Wolverine: #1 bad-ass of the Marvel Universe; a mutant with mysterious origins, an adamantium-laced skeleton with retractable (snikity-snikt!) claws, healing factor, and berserker rage, you fucking twit!”
There are two reasons why I didn’t do this. One: The Wolverine saga is just too damned vast and I had a date with Gandalf and the gang. Two: She was right. I am a geek.
That’s right. I said it. I’m damned proud of it, too. I am, to her and many others, less socially acceptable due to my love for films, comics, television and a collection of action figures that would make a ten-year-old weep. Why is being a geek such a stigma? Why is it that the term “geek” is never applied to those with a devout love of football or fashion? A woman that can name the make and model of shoes and lipstick on sight is “trendy” and “chic”. Knowing the stats and rosters of every Super Bowl is no more important to the grand scheme of the world than is the explanation of why Klingons have lumpy heads. Yet, I’m the big geek. How is taking a week off of work to watch every game in the NCAA playoffs any different than waiting in line for three days to see The Phantom Menace? No difference. We both wasted our time, were most assuredly disappointed and are both fucking geeks, though you would never be labeled as such.
No. You’re a cool dude. You’re the envy of all your cool dude pals, aren’t you, Sporto? We geeks are tired of your sanctimonious bullshit. We are not all antisocial freaks, drowning in our own immaturity with the bathing habits of a French whore. By all means, continue sneering down at us like shit on your shoe.
At the end of the day, the cool and trendy people are still the minority. We geeks rule the world behind your Tommy Hilfiger backs. We create your yellow first down line and your fancy stat graphics. Geeks made your big screen TV, and a geek gave you Victoria’s Secret. We design the packaging of frozen food so you don’t have to read what’s inside. Just look at the pictures, monkey boy, and eat it up. We spoon feed you the mundane and uninspired, saving the truly interesting things for ourselves. Please disregard the man behind the curtain because we pull his strings. Life as you know it would not exist without geeks.
So as a proud geek, I say to you “cool” dudes and chicks: kiss my ass and don’t fuck with us.