Have you seen King of the Nerds? I won’t hold it against you if you haven’t, especially if you don’t have cable, since…uh…it’s on cable. But also the Internet, as is everything. It’s a reality show that, as the title suggests, pits self-proclaimed smarty-pants against one another in a series of challenges that society at-large perceives as geeky and/or nerdy, such as playing science-fiction trivia or LARPing. The show premiered last year, and I watched that first season as eleven people were whittled down to a single winner. It was not the most repulsive of reality shows; yet, it was far from the best. (With the “best” being I don’t even know what.)
The other day, while watching the masses board the subway I was on, a young fellow wearing a pair of knickers caught my attention. When I say “young fellow,” I mean late teens or early twenties. When I say “knickers,” I mean just that. Short pants bound at the knees. Along with the knickers, he was wearing a suit jacket with a white shirt and dark tie, purple argyle socks, and Stacy Adams boots, or some variation thereof. As he looked like something from the wealthier side of a Oscar Wilde play, I thought for a moment that it might have been a costume of sorts. But as he stood there conversing with his companion, backpack slung over one shoulder, it didn’t seem that way. Maybe it was some kind if uniform? Or maybe he had walked out of a dress rehearsal without changing? Regardless of whatever story I made up in my head for him, the fact remained that he appeared quite content, quite confident in manner, quite sure of his look.
He owned it.