Watch out! They've got their eyes on... you, maybe?

There's nothing quite like a sunny, 65-degree evening to make Twins fans wish they didn't still have to go indoors. That, and whispers that two stars from the mega-hit "Twilight" were standing in front of the Metrodome on Wednesday night, an hour before game time.

"Oh, my God! Are you really from 'Twilight'?" squealed Katie Derbyshire, 19, rushing over to have her photograph taken with the good-looking couple. A Twins photographer was snapping, too, and plenty of people turned their heads, but Anne Liebman, 24, of Bloomington, wasn't buying it. "I've seen the movie, and they were not in the movie."

OK, Anne, so they weren't in the movie. But even Liebman had to admit it was one funny scene.

Harmless fun, in fact, is what the University of Minnesota Campus People Watchers (including Derbyshire in a stellar performance as the hysterical groupie) do best. The club, which bills itself as "nonprofit and not creepy," welcomes anyone interested in the social, psychological and analytical aspects of people-watching.

The group's quirkiness already has led to mini-fame, from a segment on Minnesota Public Radio to articles in campus newspapers the Minnesota Daily and the Wake. But their big break came when Naomi Rockler-Gladen, a freelance writer for suite101.com, ranked them among the weirdest college student organizations in the country. According to Rockler-Gladen, 38, of St. Louis Park, they're not as weird as the University of Florida Rock-Paper-Scissors Club, but weirder than the Harvard Tiddlywinks Society, Students for an Orwellian Society, and the University of California-Berkeley's Students Against Hippies in Trees.

Rockler-Gladen admitted with a laugh that her research was hardly scientific. After hearing about the Carleton College Mustache Club (ranked just above rock-paper-scissors), she searched the Web for other odd groups.

'Everybody does it'

About a year ago, then-U of M freshman David Shaffer, 20, started hunting for an organization to join. The former class president at Minnetonka High School had a keen interest in the intersection of society and environment, which is a fancy way of saying he's perpetually interested in why people can behave so strangely. After looking into about 20 campus groups, from Baha'i to MPIRG, he still hadn't landed on the one. Campus People Watchers was born.

"I'm an only child," Shaffer said. "Maybe that's what got me into this, observing family structures."

The group, whose membership fluctuates from about 12 to 20, meets monthly to plan its activities.

"We all love to people watch and, you know, everybody does it," said member Kathleen Olson, 20, a sophomore studying cultural anthropology. "You're driving, and you see somebody singing in his car. You're sitting in the park, and someone is walking by."

(Olson and Shaffer played the faux "Twilight" couple in one of the tableaux; in an earlier scene Bee Vang, a real-life movie star who was in the recent flick "Gran Torino," stood near the fake "Twilight" stars to see if anyone recognized him.)

The group's first foray was to that people-watching paradise, Mall of America, for a scavenger hunt. Could they find a parent walking a child on a leash? "Plenty of them," Olson said. Anybody in a costume? "Just one woman in a cat suit," Shaffer recalled. They even looked for other people who were people-watching. "They were shocked, embarrassed, to be caught," said Olson, who has known Shaffer since elementary school.

They've been to the Minnesota Zoo and participated in the St. Patrick's Day Parade in St. Paul. One of their most ambitious events was dragging a boom box onto the mall in front of Coffman Union at 8 a.m. and starting a conga line to see how many students would join in.

"We concluded that, on a college campus, approximately 99.7 percent of college students do not join conga lines," Shaffer said dryly. "Maybe it's because there was no prior warm-up music. Maybe it's because it was 8 in the morning."

They're also planning an experiment where they knock on doors and ask for a drink of water, Shaffer said, then try the same thing in Wisconsin. "We want to see if Minnesota Nice really does exist."

Olson said the absolute best place to people watch is on the No. 16 bus, running from Minneapolis to St. Paul. To get the most bang for your buck, though, "you need to sit in the back or on the seats facing forward." She pauses. "That sounds like a kind of creepy tip."

After most events, they convene to tell stories, develop theories. For example, Shaffer thinks the huge number of students listening to iPods or talking on cell phones suggests "a discomfort with being alone. If they don't have friends around, they want to look like they're doing something."

Yes, they have limits

The group does have limits, fortunately. No hanging around dressing rooms. No bathrooms. No need for it, either. People do the darnedest things right out in the open.

One time, the group spotted a guy on campus trying to ride his bike through bushes. He didn't know there was a chained fence there. He flew off his bike, got back up, rode off unhurt. Olson was happy to see it, but not to laugh at the biker's expense.

"I'm the clumsiest person ever," she said. "It's nice to know that everyone messes up."

Gail Rosenblum • 612-673-7350 • gail.rosenblum@startribune.com