I've been watching Alias. It's great because on DVD I can watch all the shows from all the seasons, in order, and not miss anything or get them out of order. So in short, DVDs are the greatest invention in the history of the entire universe, and Jennifer Garner is really really really really hot.

 

Sometimes Jennifer Garner, on the show, has to get dressed up in these formal dressy kind of dresses to go to these big lavish formal affairs, and she looks totally totally awesome. I know that that's the second time that I've made reference to how hot she is just since I've started this, but since I'm a guy I kind of feel like I have to. Because she really is totally totally hot.

 

At the beginning of the show she's a graduate student and she's engaged to this English dork. I say he's a dork first of all because he's British and I think almost all British guys are dorks, except maybe like Sting and Eric Clapton. But mostly I say it because he's with Jennifer Garner and even though he's a made-up character, I am so insanely jealous because I keep thinking how come this dorky British twit gets to be with Jennifer-Freakin'-Garner, and I'm sitting alone in my parents' basement on a Saturday night eating macaroni and cheese with no job, no life, and no home?

 

Yeah, I'm in therapy, so what? Shut up.

 

Anyway, so she tells her fiance that she's a spy, and like a total dink he calls her up on the phone and talks about how she's a spy, and of course her phone is being tapped and of course these omniscient bad-ass superspies in dark suits have the British guy killed.

 

And then here's the thing. Sydney (that's Jennifer Garner) goes back to her office, ok? And there's this super-Braniac techie guy there who I think is kind of part midget? But anyway he always stutters and is not very good in social situations, like zero people skills and is completely intimidated by women, and for some reason I can't figure out, he's the one on the show that I most closely identify with. And anyway, as hard as it is for him to do, he goes up to Sydney and tells her that he's sorry about her fiance getting killed, and Sydney looks at him and says "Thanks."

 

This is the picture that I want you to have in your head: This super-brainiac part-midget techie guy standing there with this uber-hot spy girl, saying "I'm sorry that British dink got killed by the bad-ass superspies who we both work for in this very office!" and she just stands there smiling with these enormous dimples and says "Thanks."

 

She doesn't say "Thank you, Marshall" or even just "Thank you," she says "Thanks." To me, "Thanks" is something you say when someone passes the salt or holds the elevator for you. "Thanks" is very informal and I'm even starting to believe that it's not just a shortened version of saying "Thank you"; it's a shortened way of saying "Thank you...and no one really gives a shit!"

 

I mean, here she is, so completely hot, a super-genius secret agent with good-looking friends all over the place and everyone from her boss to her CIA handler on down to the doofy reporter guy who hangs out with her is totally in love with her, and she can't even say "Thank you." The midget guy probably rehearsed what he was going to say in front of a mirror for days and days, and all he got was "Thanks".

 

Maybe I'm obsessing on extreme minutae. I have been known to do that. But I'm not on a crusade against people who do stupid, thoughtless crap; it's just that I feel bad for all the geeky techno-midgets out there who never know what to say or how to act, because I've been there myself.

 

Like this one time when I was like 25 or so, my wife and I went to this dinner party. It wasn't any kind of formal hoity-toity black-tie thing, it was just a bunch of folks from church. But I didn't know them all that well, and what's more, they barely knew me at all. They might have known me well enough to say hello or whatever, but not nearly well enough to know that I could talk for hours abuot breakfast cereals or the Incredible Hulk or giant killer ninja robots, or that I had theories about aliens and bigfoot. Those are the kind of random things that I like and enjoy and know something about, just the same way that most guys can talk for hours about first round draft picks or NASCAR or power tools. Which is kind of what all the guys stood around talking about, while I just kind of stared and nodded.

 

You may think, given my vast knowledge of so many useless subjects, and my seemingly never-ending ability to bullshit my way through my entire life, that this wouldn't have been a problem. You might even be right. Maybe I could have faked it, that I had the slightest idea what they were talking about or that it held any interest for me at all.

 

I could have, but I didn't.

 

And I realize that the situation I'm describing, where I'm staring pie-eyed and stifling a yawn while three deacons from my church debate how to a-frame a garage extension, is much different than the one I talked about on Alias earlier. The point is, when you're a geek, you often find yourself in situations where you don't quite know what to say, whether you're intimidated by a really hot woman or baffled by inane and stupid conversation.

 

It may be that a lot of you geeks out there reading this look to me as your Supreme Ruler, as well you should, because there are no bigger geeks than me. But in this case, sadly, I don't have the answer. I don't know what to do in cases like this. I do, however, know what not to do, and that is just be yourself and speak what's on your mind. Because the chances are really good that what's on your mind has nothing whatsoever to do with what's going on around you or whatever else is being discussed.

 

So I guess it's just smile and nod. And later on when you relive the scene in your imagination, add a three-horned alien to the conversation or something. That way, you won't fall asleep.