Nerds at Brunch

The last time I was in Las Vegas, I had brunch at the Garden Court Buffet in downtown’s Main Street Casino. Sitting at the table next to us were seven college-age kids that reminded me of the movie, Revenge of the Nerds.

It was a near-stereotypical gathering of nerd types:

·         A pale, overweight girl with long red hair, dark eye makeup and red lips.

·         A Jack Blackish non-top talking guy with dark horn-rimmed glasses and a beard and mustache, wearing a white tee-shirt.

·         A girl with long reddish auburn hair and a tattooed shoulder.

·         A young man with a messy top-bushy head of hair, wearing a Freddy Krueger wide-striped shirt, with a self-tattoo on his upper left arm.

·         A fairly normal pony-tailed brunette with colorful rimmed shades perched on top of her head.

·         A stringy-haired Hispanic guy in a dark-brown tank top, also sporting self-tattoos.

·         A quiet musing guy with long hair, dressed all-in-black, shoulders hunched, and a bandolier belt hanging from his hips.

They were carrying on a pseudo-intellectual conversation about meaning of life that segued into listing words that rhyme with "agony" or was it "baloney"? Whatever. I was tempted to butt in and offer "nerdispamolagony" but figured they would be offended.

Besides, they soon all started playing with their smart phones.

So suave guy that I am – dressed in a dark golf-polo shirt with a few bleach spots on the back, wrinkled navy cargo shorts, faded Tommy Bahamas cap, and busted-up running Striders – I decided I was no better than they were, whipped out my own smart phone and checked my Facebook page.

Nerds of the world, UNITE!