There's a Zombie in the Closet

Yesterday, while exiting the New York Public Library on Fifth Avenue between 42nd and 41st Streets I saw a convention of zombies.

“Zombies” in this case is completely literal, but it isn’t. Zombies of course aren’t real or are real only in the sense that Big Foot, the Chupacabra, and the Abonimanble Snowman are real, which means one in ten thousand believes in them but every single one of those people will watch Discovery and History channel specials on fictional characters. The zombies outside the library were not fictional, but they weren’t really zombies either. A gathering of about 100 “infected” beings was posing/writhing on the steps in front of the classically built edifice. Their faces were painted white and green and red to simulate blood and wounds and whatever else zombies usually have on their undead faces. I briefly joined the interested and amused onlookers as the area filled with nonsensical yells and moans.

The funniest part was watching the zombie convention disperse as they ran howling into unsuspecting New York foot traffic scaring the absolute shit out of a group of high school kids on a weekend field trip.

As a now “legitimate” reporter I wish I had been assigned to this story, and that I had a camera on me. I believe the article would’ve begun something like this:

“In response to the escalating Swine Flu epidemic the Zombie Community held an emergency convention to remind people that there is still no vaccine for zombienitus.” It would then go on to include background on the zombie condition, a few brief quotes from concerned or influential zombies as well as a tasteful photo of a convention attendee leaping into an unconscious homeless man.

On my walk home I mistook a lingering zombie for a homeless man when I gave him my change; I guess I missed the sign that said he wanted human flesh.