A few months ago, I was able to go to Seattle with my job as an editor for my college's literary magazine for AWP (which is basically a writer's conference that should actually be AWWP, but I guess that was taken or wasn't catchy enough. Something). Now, this was my first trip to Seattle, and I was beyond excited and fairly nervous as well. I had no idea what to expect, but I definitely thought it was going to be good. I quickly learned that Seattle is one of my favorite cities of all time--not quite Munich, or Brugge, but definitely up there with cities that I've been to in the 'States. I got to room with a good friend, one of the first people I met freshman year, Meg, which was a lot of fun, and we spent most of our time exploring Seattle with Jorie and Kim, editors from our magazine who were in the room next to us.
The four of us set out on the city after doing a few registration things at the conference building. We walked down to Pike's Place market, which is probably the most legit open-air market I have ever been to, and I work periodically at the Downtown Farmer's Market, so I know markets. We had some thoroughly awesome fresh chowder, and then we walked down to Puget Sound. And from there, we walked to the Space Needle, which is not close to the Sound, and then after gazing out at the city of Seattle we started back to the hotel. So all told, we walked about fifteen blocks that first night. I had not packed a single good pair of walking shoes and I was IN PAIN and also STARVING because the chowder had been at least four hours before the space needle and I get hypoglycemic. Which basically means that you won't like me when I'm hungry. It's sort of like the Incredible Hulk, minus the green and the tearing of clothes and...you know. I don't turn into an enormous green rage monster. But I do get cranky and sometimes weepy. It's not super pretty.
This has pertinence to nerdy t-shirts, I promise.
So anyway. Day two we started attending the panels at the conference, and part of our duties included manning the lit mag's table in the book fair. I was working the table with my friend Kim, giving people copies of the lit mag and also granola bars and things. We were laughing and spoofing the lyrics to Frozen songs ("Do you want to read our lit mag?") when this guy in a sweet Captain America t-shirt walked by and said "How you doin'" to me. And this guy was good looking. Like, really. So he got my attention, and I watched him walk away, wishing he'd stopped to pick up a literary magazine.
Luck of luck: a few hours later, I realized he was working literary magazine table only a few tables away from mine. Basically, the next hour or so of working the table with my friend went like this:
Me: He's good looking.
Kim: Go talk to him.
Me: No.
Kim: Yes.
*a few minutes later*
Me: And that shirt is so classy. Captain America. He's such a cool superhero.
Kim: Go talk to him.
Me: I can't! You know how I get around new guys. . .I squeak at them.
Kim: Go. Talk. To him.
*a few minutes later*
Me: *sighs*
Kim: We're going to talk to him.
So Kim, because she's a good friend, dragged me over to his table once our shift had ended. The first words I said to him were "nice shirt. I love Captain America," because my smoothness knows no bounds. And he was friendly, flirty, and definitely smart. Talking to him was easy, and nothing says fast friendship like making up fanfiction where Garfield is fighting the Taliban and Osama Bin Laden is actually Otie.
Yeeeeeah. . . not actually sure how that plot came to fruition.
The next day, I debated all day on whether or not I should give him my number. I didn't think any sort of relationship would come of it, I didn't even know if he was single or not, but I'd definitely made a new friend and I thought it would be worth it to stay in touch. So I wrote my number on the back of a page of an old book along with a little note. And, after a LOT of coercing and coaxing from my friends, I gave it to him, in my usual suave and confident way.
Me: This is for you.
Him: You're too good to me, woman!
Me: No way. I'll see you.
So I walked away with my friends, and my friend, Jorie looked back at him and squealed, "he's reading it!" I have to admit--for me, it was fairly smooth. I didn't look back, but I definitely giggled once I was out of earshot.
A few days after my return home, he texted me, and we talk pretty regularly. He's a really good friend, and I'm certainly glad I got to meet him in the four days I was in Seattle. I probably never would have talked to him if he hadn't worn that t-shirt, and I would have missed out on making a friend.
Moral of the story is: Never be afraid to wear nerdy t-shirts, because you never know what conversations they might instigate.
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