Nerds. *swoon*

I love nerds. I love the way they talk, the way they dress, the way my eyes glaze over when they start talking about something I don’t even know enough about to understand the words they’re saying.
In a world where conformity is so rampant, seeing someone participate in things they like because they like it is refreshing. Having a personal sense of style is one of my favorite things on a man. Getting soulful about the esoteric is a major turn-on for me.
I’m not sure when this started for me. I think it came around the time I was settling into my own and getting comfortable with my own nerdiness. Saying that I was a filmmaker as young as 11 was something that made my peers’ neck snap back. Filmmaking? You sure?
I came up during an era where flash and cash was attractive. All a girl was expected to be was fly enough to be seen in public with. What she was into, what she liked, who she was was not important. So imagine going out with guys at 16 and saying you wanted to move to New York and go to film school.
“Because I wanna be a filmmaker. I’ve been screenwriting since I was eleven.”
“Oh. That’s…different.”

I remember then moving to Fort Greene Brooklyn and meeting other artists. Men who were graphic designers and writers and painters. Being around people who wouldn’t balk at the thought of a young black woman wanting to do something was freeing. Just a nod and “Cool.” was what I got. Oh, too be normal!
It was there that I got a taste of nerds: People that were all about their craft, for a hobby or a career. Seeing the look on someone’s face when given the opportunity to speak on said craft always gave me a chill and I knew then that this was my crowd.
It wasn’t until my mid-twenties that I fully indulged in my love for nerds. I met a guy shortly after moving to Pittsburgh. He was my age, a statistician and set to move to Lesoto a short while after we met. He didn’t have model good looks or much of a fashion sense. But he spoke three languages, could spout facts about the average hospital budget and had lived in China for four years. He was incredibly nerdy, my kinda guy.
He would cook for me on snowy March afternoons and talk about the latest gadget to hit the market while my eyes glazed over in a aroused haze. Once, he ordered Chinese for us in Mandarin while other patrons looked on impressed. They weren’t the only ones.
I was sad to see him go to Lesoto in May. Three years he’d be gone. I still think about him anytime I order Singapore Rice Noodles.
From then on, I became the cheerleader for the nerdy underdog, constantly scoping out the guy at the bar with the sweet eye glass frames and the dorky t-shirt above the average jocks and so-called cool guys. I could spot a geek a mile away. All they had to do was make one joke about “Lost” and I was hooked. I can only seem to go for the kind that can woo me yet teach me something at the same time. Intelligence is at the very top of the “Ways To Impress Banji” list. I’m the first one to sign up to go to Comic-Con but I don’t own one comic book.

Am I the only one that digs nerds? Speak up!