Zombie Pub Crawl, You Used To Be Cool

 A few years ago, we discovered the Zombie Pub Crawl for the first time.  It seemed to be the perfect marriage of some of our great loves: Halloween, beer, and zombies.  And indeed, we had a ridiculously awesome time.  That first time around was a great experience.  We loved it so much that we sent a second time (which is where I was unwittingly discovered by some parishioners via mass media) and last year, even though it was starting to get really formal and they actually started charging, we went again and had fun.  This year, prices went up and the venue changed.  Instead of just being in Minneapolis, it crossed the river to a second location in St. Paul.  On paper, it sounds like a good idea.  It made us a bit worried, however, because it sounded like it was getting a little corporate.  Still, we got our tickets, invited friends, and started gearing up.Then, two things happened.  One, we got really distracted in a busy life and totally forgot that we needed to get ready.  I mean, we barely got costumes together a week before the big event.  And second, our fears were confirmed: the ZPC sold out.  Lots of musical acts, little concern for kitchy zombie creep out factors.  I mean, they even told people they'd get the police involved if they spilled blood around.  That's what the ZPC is all about, man!

Still, we managed to get ourselves together for the big day.  Sure, we were barely prepared, but three of our friends who'd come with us to previous ZPCs had managed to get costumes and tickets together.  We rolled out for the pub crawl and its promises of beer specials and crazy outfits and plenty of fake blood.  Almost as soon as we showed up, something seemed... not quite right.  As MK said: "Zombie Pub Crawl, you used to be cool." 

And not that it wasn't cool.  It was cool.  There was the right, wonderful mix of weirdos, drunks, and horror aficionados.  There were lots of really innovative costumes, from the typical recently deceased celebrities to the more creative and disturbing.  I had a great time running around and trying to get photographs of anyone I possibly could.  I was so serious about getting people to pose for photos that I got asked more than a few times about what paper or service I worked for.  I wasn't sure that any reputable agency would send a reporter out dressed as a white trash zombie, but I appreciated the sentiment.  Plus, it gave the the chance to meet people - and we all know I can't resist a crowd full of potential new friends, even if they are dressed like the unholy walking dead.

Possibly an actual zombie.

The enormous crowd was the biggest it's ever had, which was good since Guinness World Records was indeed on hand to try to set the record for Largest Gathering Of Zombies.  (Yes, such a thing exists.)  But because the gathering was spread out between two cities, it was hard to get a feel for the crush of creepers in the city.  There was none of that original flash mob feel, no spontaneity, no energy.  There were great costumes, and lots of people, and tons of bloody creepiness.  It just felt... well, I was about to say it felt a little soulless, but then I realized that soullessness was perhaps a required part of a city-wide gathering of zombies.  I guess what I'm trying to say is that it didn't quite have the sparkle that it used to have.

Making matters worse is the fact that I've become an absolute zombie snob.  I have started to judge people on the basis of their zombie costumes.  For instance: don't you ever, ever dare come to the ZPC dressed as a prom queen or bride.  You'll think you're original; you're not.  Everyone and their mom comes as one of those.  We counted almost 60 brides alone.  And those of you who dress as medical professionals, you're on a tight rope as well.  There are a million of them.  The only reason you get away with it is because in a real zombie invasion, the infection would probably hit hospitals and their employees hardest.  Plus, zombies in scrubs are actually pretty creepy; you're supposed to be able to trust medical professionals.  At least you're being realistic, though, which is more than I can say for the imaginary character zombies.  Video game and cartoon characters?  C'mon, they're not real.  They could never turn into a zombie.  You really just took last year's Halloween costume, poured blood down it, and called yourself a Zombie Fill-In-The-Blank.  And don't get me started on the zluts, or slombies.  Yes, just as Halloween dictates that every girl costume must be a sexy version of a thing, so ZPC somehow drives girls to dress as slutty zombies.  Seriously?  What's sexy about tons of blood and chomping on brains?  You're not hot; you're actually sick and creepy.

See what I mean?  I can't help but judge.

But still, we had fun.  We enjoyed our little taste of early Halloween, and made it home in time to scrub the blood and liquid latex off before church the next morning.  And this time, we didn't get busted by people from the church.  Just an innocent, anonymous excursion with a few thousand of my newest, closest zombie friends.  Zombie Pub Crawl, you used to be cool - and odds are, I'll be there again next year to make sure you've got your groove back.

And as pictured at the left, the bloody handprint on our car window when we tried to leave indicated to us that, yes, the spirit of the ZPC lives on.  In an undead way, of course.  What do we want?  BRAINS!  When do we want them?  BRAINS!