The veteran boulderer

It feels weird thinking like this, but you need the most tomboyish tomboy you can find. Okay, maybe it doesn't feel that weird thinking like that, but you're not looking for a girlfriend, you really do need someone who's indisputably a tomboy.

According to the Tome of Tomboy, A member of the Cult of Tomboy demonstrates the extent of her piety by how fully she embodies the Tenets of Tomboyhood. A tomboy’s obedience to the Tomboy Code varies directly with her adherence to the Tenets of Tomboyhood.

Thus the more tomboy the tomboy, the more likely she'll be to be a member of the Cult of Tomboy too, like your mom, and the more likely she'll be able to help you confirm or refute Mom's claims. According to the Tome of Tomboy anyway, that's how it should work. To be frank, you're unconvinced being a tomboy is a religion rather than a personal preference. Does a girl really need an excuse to wear jeans and play baseball?

With that in mind, you go over the 10 Tenets of Tomboyhood in your mind as you look at your options.

The new girl by the water fountains certainly shows the 2nd Tenet, an adventurous spirit, by trying something new. And the fast woman on the tall wall is definitely the image of the 6th Tenet, pursuit of masculine arts, by her familiarity with the climb - you've seen her here before, she's definitely a regular.

But it's the muscular woman freeclimbing on the arch that truly draws you eye. Her physicality shows an embrace of the 1st Tenet. Her bold, half-shaved hairstyle shows the unselfconscious character desired in the 3rd Tenet. And her no-nonsense tank top, shorts, and mountaineering boots represent an embodiment of the 10th Tenet's stylistic requirements.

That's a whole lot of Tenets taken to the maximum degree. You make your choice.

You dismount the beginner rock wall and walk over to watch the woman work her course from below. Her skill and strength impress you. Nearly upside down, the climber circles up and around the belly of the arch. Her broad back and shoulders flex to maintain the tension necessary to stay in place. Gravity doesn't only pull her downward at this angle, but outward, away from the wall. Chalk or no, you couldn't take an approach like that. You lack grip strength.

After a few minutes of observation, the woman feels your eyes on her. She glances back to take note, but focuses first on her climb. Only when she reaches the midpoint of the arch, does she let her feet fall away, while keeping her handholds. She inverts, hanging down, and drops. She absorbs the impact in a low crouch.

Dusting her hands of excess chalk, the climber rights herself and approaches, frowning. "Can I help you?" she asks.

Up close, the climber is stunning. So much so you forget what the plan was.

The woman stands 3 or 4 inches taller than you. She has dark eyes and a strong jaw, and perspiration dampens her skin and sticks asymmetric blonde bangs to her head. Her powerful build is unhidden by her tank top or shorts.

"Well, uh, hi," you say.

The climber folds her arms.

You clear your throat. "I'm Marshal. Not to bother you, but, you're a tomboy, right?"

She lifts an eyebrow.

You're screwing this up. How did the Tomboy Code go again? A tomboy may identify a fellow member of the Cult of Tomboy through a challenge-and-answer pair. Right.

"Sorry, how about I start over," you say. You clear your throat. "Does the question 'To whom can the secrets of the heart be trusted' mean anything to you?"

Her serious frown deepens "It means a childhood friend. But that's not a question you should ask," she says. "It's disrespectful."

"Disrespectful?"

"It's a sacred thing between tomboys," she says, "and you're clearly not a tomboy. Don't even try to tell me you're trans."

The last of your doubt about Tomboyism being a real thing fades. It's still unbelievable, but between your mom, the server, and now this total stranger, no other explanation is possible.

"I didn't mean to offend you," you say, wincing and rubbing the back of your neck. "Yesterday another tomboy - well, my mom - told me about the Cult. I didn't believe her. I wanted to find out if it was true, but I didn't really think about what would happen if it was."

The climber's stern facade softens slightly. "What's your name, kid?"

"Marshal," you say. "You?"

"Jordan," she replies. Then she gives you a hard look. "Listen, you didn't know so I'll let it slide, but for a guy to issue the Challenge to a tomboy like that, it's like a slap in the face."

You shift uncomfortably in place. "I had no idea, why is - is it really that bad?"

Jordan nods gravely. "When you issue the Challenge, the implication is you're a tomboy too. But since you're a guy, that's a big problem," she tells you. "The only male tomboy there can be is the Master Tomboy. So when you ask a tomboy that question, you're basically screaming, 'Hey lady, I'm your First and Best Childhood Friend.'"

So tomboys other than Mom believe in the Master Tomboy. Mom's not a fanatic extremist. Which is a relief, to say the least.

"And that's... bad? To claim you're the Master Tomboy?" you ask.

Jordan's expression turns distasteful. "Some assholes who do a little reading think by telling you they're the MT, they can get into your pants. It's like some punk claiming you should hand over your wallet because he's Jesus. It's insulting on a metaphysical level," she says. "Impostorism doesn't happen as much these days since people are more culturally aware, and the courts started ruling it as a hate crime, but it still happens."

Does that mean you could go to jail if you tell this woman you you're the Master Tomboy, but it turns out you aren't? You blanch.

Jordan tries tries to smile, but the look is too fierce to be comforting. "It's all right, kid, really. I said I'd let it slide, didn't I? No tomboy worth her salt takes this kind of thing at face value. Just don't do it again, is what I'm saying."

With the stakes raised, your resolve wavers. This could be one expensive lottery ticket. Is it worth the gamble?