Zombie Victim #1

If there ever is a zombie attack, I'll be the first one to go.

That's what I've learned today. After laying on the couch for hours watching bad nineties horror flicks. I had never made the connection between the nineties and terrible horror movies, but there is one. I think we were all wrapped up in Y2K terror so at the time we were all thinking, "Hey, this could actually happen. Aliens could invade a high school and take over the faculty, their only will being to win the big state championship football game...you just never know, do you?" I watched three or four relatively similar horror movies today with the same heavy thought weighing down on me - I'm a prime candidate to either a) become a host body for some alien organism or b) die in the first wave of zombie attacks. I would never be one of the chosen few to make it into the safety of the mall, hospital or grocery store to map out my escape.

Here's why - I never have gas in my car. Think about it. Zombies come after you, your only real option is to hop in your car and get the hell out of Dodge. Try to make your way to the next town over, hope to God they haven't infiltrated Meaford or Port Elgin (my next towns over...thankfully they both have Tim Horton's) and try to warn the general public about the imminent zombies. Nobody will believe you, of course, but at least you'll have a head start.

If and when zombies make it to Owen Sound, I would probably make it to my car despite the fact that I have a perpetual thirty second delay in literally every crisis situation. Maybe a zombie would trip over my Swiffer Wet Jet or something. So I would get in my car, start up the engine and back out of the driveway. I would probably feel really smug too, maybe flash my highbeams at the zombies to mock them. They would start chasing me and I would make it about three bocks away before my car would crap out. And then...oh Nelly.

Another reason zombies would get me first? Location. Zombies love small towns. I think it's all the cute little cafes and boutique shops myself, our homespun friendly natures. They seem to always start out in a sleepy little town a few hours from the city. And I tend to do alot of hanging around in town...plus I'm just really absent-minded alot of the time. I can't remember how many times I've been sitting in a cafe, reading or writing and had someone come up to me and say, "Jen? Jesus, I said your name about five times!"

So if I were in a zombie movie I would be billed as 'Zombie victim #1', which is a place of distinction, I guess. I'd be the girl who is in the shower when her boyfriend comes in behind her, blood dripping from his mouth, skin melting off, black eyes rolling. And I would say something like,"Bill! What's wrong with you? Why are you looking at me like....aargh!! Choke! Sputter! Die..."

Happy Halloween all. And if I'm turned into a zombie this year...I'm coming after one of you...