Tuesday, June 26, 2007

The smarty club that dare not speak its name

My sister joined Mensa a few years back, and when she moved to Omaha, she sent an email to other local Mensa-ites to try and meet new people. Nobody ever responded. Earlier today I was emailing with her about birth order and intelligence and she reminded me again about the smartypantses who never bothered to respond to her social overtures. This reminded me of the events that transpired at a Friday night happy hour with some of my co-workers. I emailed her back with this description:

"At some point this guy approached our table and asked "Are you guys the mensa happy hour?" We all stared at him for a beat or two, looked at each other, stared at him again. Then we were all like, "uh, no, that's not us. Nope." Except for one of my co-workers who actually used this dopey voice and said "YEAH! We're with mensa!" I felt kind of bad. He walked away and I was like, we need to apologize to that guy. Every person I was with got pissy and said he was making fun of us. But there's no way he was making fun of us. He looked so embarassed after he saw our reaction. It was so weird and awkward."

I think this may be why nobody from Mensa ever responded to my sister...because they've learned not to go be social in situations where they have to admit they're part of Mensa. Because apparently everyone who's not in Mensa becomes kind of a defensive jerk when they're around.

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