The Plague of Nerds

In
the last couple of years, the Twin Cities has gained a reputation as a
hipster Mecca; the chic architecture (new Guthrie, Walker, and Central
Library) has garnished international praise, the rocking music scene is
hotter than ever with both indie and mainstream bands (Atmosphere on Conan! The
Hold Steady opens for The Rolling Stones!), and a powerhouse literary
scene has now become a screenwriting oil well thanks to Diablo Cody and
the Cohen Bros and their shiny new Oscars. For crying out loud, Esquire Magazine even named Nye’s Bar the Best Bar in America. The
kudos are great and all, but underneath this sparkly new façade lurks a
part of the city that is rarely mentioned in the national media: nerds. A
spastic biblical plague has besieged us and now the Twin Cities is so
infested with dweebs and smarty pants douche bags that all of Prince’s
paisley purple funk can’t cover up our dorkiness. Minneapolis-once a city so proud of its seismic punk rock and giant cherry spoon-has now become Nerdapolis.

Everywhere I go in the Twin Cities, I’m accosted by some freak that brings the coolness down several notches. Just
yesterday, a cashier at the super hip Calhoun Whole Foods scolded me
for not knowing the meaning of the different colored light sabers used
in the Star Wars movies. My four year old son had
brought his toy light saber to the store and when we got to the
checkout, the cashier looked down and seriously inspected his stupid
plastic toy. The dude then gave me an exaggerated expression of relief.

"Thanks god that light saber is green," grocery clerk Dave scoffed.

"Excuse me?" I replied, walking straight into the nerd trap. Then
Dave preceded to give me an in depth analysis about how in the
legendary Sci-Fi series the evil Darth Sidious’s saber was red and Jedi
Obi-Wan Kenobi’s was blue and that if my son’s light saber would’ve
been a color other than green that meant he could’ve been in an alliance with some god damn thing called the "Siths". I
don’t think grocery Dave understood that I recently bought the toy at
Walgreens because my kid just successfully went a week without shitting
his pants and not for some galactic rebellion.

After
we loaded our four bags of groceries into the car, we naturally decided
that there was nothing to eat and went out to eat at Punch Pizza. As
we stood in the long line waiting to order, two ladies in business
suits stood at the cashier, where they unmercifully grilled the pizza
cook.

"Were the tomatoes in your sauce vine ripened? This buffalo cheese you have on the menu…how long was it aged?"

Then several other asshole foodies joined in on the tomato inquisition. As
they held up the entire line (at dinnertime nonetheless), a full blown
debate broke out on the merits of Roma tomatoes versus sun dried
tomatoes. I tried my best not to stab these culinary wonks in the eye with my son’s GREEN light saber. I mean come on… food nerds? Aren’t we the city that birthed the Replacements?

A
few days later at the local garden center where I work, I meet the
grand marshal of the nerd parade that is barreling through our fair
city. This woman came in to the store with an exotic blue parrot perched on her shoulder. She eagerly drew attention from every human within five miles and enthusiastically fielded questions about the pet. Then she approached me and asked if we carried a plant named, "Antirrhinum". Now a normal person (or non-dumbass) would come in and ask if we had any Snapdragons. Oh, but not this super smart plant nerd. She only referred to plants by their proper botanical name. When
I showed her the table filled with flowering Snapdragons she smiled and
asked me, "Did you see my parrot?" just in case I missed the giant blue
jungle bird squawking two feet from my face.

Just when I was starting to get bitter about the death of cool in Minneapolis, the city turned me on my ear. I recently went to the Southdale Movie Theater to catch a film with my wife and witnessed a massive nerd spawning in the lobby. Since
the theater was filled with nothing but blockbusters, the nerds had
ascended in full force to catch the latest comic book turned into film. As
I paid for the tickets, we witnessed a gaggle of men in various shades
of trench coats and skinny jeans gawking at all the movie posters and
mammoth action hero advertisements in the lobby. The nerd
herd was so stimulated by the new Batman, Speed Racer, Indiana Jones,
Kung Fu Panda, and Iron Man advertisements that the lobby was basically
a super hero porn shop. And when they saw the ten foot tall statue of The Hulk by the concession stand it was boner city. I
walked by them with my wife and got a good chuckle out of these grown
ass men bowing down before an angry green cartoon monster.

But they were watching me as well. As Sarah and I turned the corner to go in the theater that was showing Sex and the City
I heard them loudly snicker at me. Their disdain echoed in my head
because I had just been called out for being the lame guy going to see
a total chick flick. And they were completely right on. As our "date movie" began, I couldn’t help but think: If dudes who know the name of the sand pit monster in Return of the Jedi think that I’m a major loser then that makes me the biggest nerd in the whole city.

Ouch.