Last weekend I was fortunate enough to join my friends at their family’s beach house. Like any other 20-something lady I spent the weekend reading teen novels about our not-too-distant dystopian future and forming a real-life plan for the pending zombie apocalypse.
Watch any zombie movie or read any young adult novel and you’ll quickly realize that a well thought-out plan and the ability to run are essential to getting through the day while people are constantly trying to eat your brains. A few aspects of our plan were easy choices. My friend’s ocean house is elevated and surrounded on three sides by water and since zombies hate water, this is the perfect haven. Other aspects of the plan posed problems. Specifically, who we allow into our zombie compound.
We concluded that we’re really looking for two sets of skills from any person who wants to join our team. The first, obviously, is the ability to fight and kill zombies or help others fight and kill zombies. The second skill is a little more nuanced. Since we’d like to enjoy our zombie apocalypse as much as possible, we’re looking for some luxury skills. Essentially we’re looking for people who will bludgeon zombies by day and play Bach like Yo-Yo Ma by night. Sadly, not all of our friends or their significant others fit the bill and had to be cut from the team. To these friends I’d like to say I’m sorry and I really do wish you luck. (Remember to run!)
By now you’re wondering why in the world I’m writing about zombies on what’s supposed to be a dating column. But I promise that somewhere in my “I-will-always-be-alone-because-I-spend-vacations-talking-about-zombies-and-extolling-the-virtues-of-Doctor-Who” rant there is a point! And that point was raised by my friends:
“From now on you either have to pick new boyfriends with the zombie team qualifications in mind, or be prepared that he might not make the cut.”
This made me think back on my previous boyfriends, and turn on them the same lens I just used for my friends. Would any of my ex-boyfriends serve as an asset to me when the zombies attack? (No, not at all. Not in the least bit.)
I’ve spent the past week looking at every single man I know and questioning if they’d make the cut. It’s become my new first date question (“Thanks for the wine. So, if suddenly the world was attacked by zombies, how would you react? Don’t mind me, I’m just going to take a few notes.”) and something I think every single person should ask of their significant other before things get too serious.
Or we can just assume that like in that movie about people hiding in the woods to escape the Nazis and every young adult novel ever, I will end up finding myself a ‘Forest Husband.’ And since Forest Husbands are usually attractive in an untraditional way and super resourceful I am super okay with that.
Because zombies are real. They are coming. And they are hungry for your brains.
Joy Engel lives and works in Portland, Maine where she tweets far too much and solves the occasional murder-mystery while riding around on a bicycle. Everything she writes is her personal opinion and does not necessarily represent the views of her employer or its clients.