By Meg Curtis
Zombies
contend with the ultimate victimization. They suffer from stereotyping which
casts them as dirty, unsightly (to say the very least and then some),
frightening, and even egregiously hungry. So, are we describing a teenaged
rebel here, or what?
How many of
us know a zombie well enough to assess these attributes? I will admit that I
know a good many individuals who talk about zombies, appear to believe in
zombies, and may even be interested in dating zombies, but I don’t know one
dead-on zombie, do you?
In fact, the
interest in dating zombies completely baffles me. Who wants to hear endless tales of, “Boy, you
should have known me when I was dead….” I know enough dead-heads already, and aspire
to know no more. If I wanted to hear about life under the dirt, I’d live there
myself.
Verifying a
zombie defies all determination. What do we do—take a blood sample? That could
get us in serious trouble with the law. Imagine yourself explaining: “Look, I was just trying to get a sample of
this guy’s blood when he hauled off and bit me.” And yes, I often say: “Bite
me!”
The few men I
have suspected of being zombies, I admit it, led me on. They said things like “Can’t
get enough sleep.” “Can’t find my underwear—you got it?” “Maybe should wear a
paper bag on my head.” I wanted to inquire as to their zombie persuasion, but
left them in the closet.
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