I'm not Undead yet, either! (More on that to follow)

I was walking back to the Village from a church celebration on a Saturday night during the zombie apocalypse, wondering how far the undead minions had spread from their original nest on Osborne, when I suddenly ran into one. It was a darkened street corner just before River intersects with More of River to become a 5-lane death street, and there was a six-foot-tall creature of the undead who may have been a schoolgirl or a stripper or a schoolgirl stripper in a past life, calmly wandering across River in her stiletto boots, waving down cars.

She was playing the part of a zombie (unfocused eyes, inability to stand straight, walk straight, or speak straight) so well that I was at first a bit afraid of her, and elected to remain on the other side of the street, but soon she was lurching towards me, until we were both on the corner of the 5-lane death street, and I was cowering against a lamp post and asking her to please not eat my brain.



She promised not to, and asked for directions back to the Village, which I gave her. By now I had realized that despite all the scabs and pasty strands of skin falling off her face, she was not undead, but merely very unsober, which was underlined by her next choice, which was to prance into the path of a moving vehicle.

Technically she was already undead, but I decided to help her survive the evening anyway. I dragged her back onto the curb and escorted her back to Osborne. She asked me who I was. I told her my name, and she told me hers. She told me what she did for a living. I told her I'm a cake decorator. I asked her where her phone was. Her friend had it. We tried calling it from mine. No one answered. She asked me who I was. I told her my name, and she told me hers. She told me about the friends she was trying to reunite with. I tried calling her phone again. Still no answer.

Some fire paramedics driving down River asked if she was okay, I told them I was quite sure she was still alive. She asked me my name. I told her mine and hers. We got to the village. We went into the coffee shop where I was supposed to meet a friend of mine. She was sitting at the counter waiting for me, and was quite surprised when I showed up with a zombie stripper in tow. I enlisted her help to get Zombie Stripper to a place where I was more confident she would not get run over. We wandered down Osborne looking for ZS's friends. We finally left her at a bar, where she swore she knew most of the people. Since they were all zombies we couldn't be sure, but we let her go anyway.

My friend and I went back to the coffee shop. Now slightly worried that I hadn't been responsible enough,  I texted ZS's phone, told her I hoped she found it, and reminded her to please not die.

This morning I logged on to the Free Press website to see a picture of my Zombie Stripper from earlier in the evening before, around the time her night must have started, about to be bitten by the friend she spent the rest of the evening looking for. I hope she got my text.