the zombie apocalypse is upon us!!

the zombie apocalypse is upon us. i never thot i'd say that- and actually mean it!

everything was fine today. that's your first clue. that's how it always starts: the sun peeking warmly thru the crack in the curtains, the william tell overture playing lightly on some far-away whispy strings, and a slight upturn overtakes the corners of your lips. it's going to be a good day, like ice cube.

and you're driving. and you're listening to some tame-one bumping on your sounds-pretty-good-today factory car stereo. and the sun is now warming your crown from somewhere directly above your sunroof. and a musical project you've been working on is very near completion: your brand new mixtape. yes, a pretty damn good day.

so i stop at the supermarket (they have coffee and donuts and take debit cards) to use the in-store bank branch to activate my new debit card (i don't do credit). and on the way in i notice the hands-free hand-sanitizer dispenser. i partake of my anti-bacterial communion, because better safe than sorry, right?

this is where it all goes into slo-motion: i enter the supermarket thru the automatic doors and make an immediate right to approach the ATM... but i feel eyes on my back; that eerie sixth sense, when you just know someone is eyeing you... i insert my debit card and my head pans to the right: an adolescent boy's beady, blood-shot eyes meet mine. his eyes are full of hatred and hellfire, his face as flush as funeral-home-foundation. his white-knuckle grip on the cart belies his casual guise in the cart's toddler seat. i break stare to enter my password, then balance inquiry, then my eyes dart back to the waiting eyes of the inflicted child. the face-mask he's wearing is more reminiscent of jason or michael myers than the complacent masked pedestrians on the streets on tokyo. that's just ozone-holed-weather blues.

he's not a bubble boy, i say to myself, he's infected! the swine flu, the media calls it. the super bug! haven't you ever read stephen king's, the stand?! this is how it starts! i get my debit card back and hurry off in the direction of the coffee and donuts. but now i'm aware of each and every swarm of germs that makes its way onto my body. the door to the donut bin is open and i wonder, how many dirty, grimy, germy hands have been in that donut bin today? so i skip the donuts. i select a coffee cup from the middle of the stack. i do the same for the lid selection. i don't want anything that's been touched.

after i fill my coffee, as germ freely as possible, i do the lookaround. no zombie boy in sight. i make a b-line for the other end of the store, figure i'll make a left up ahead and go straight for the self-checkout. after passing about four aisles, i bang a sharp left, then i see him. it's zombie boy, his mother looking thru canned goods (stocking up for the zombie apocolypse, no doubt!), and he's staring me down; burning-red hatred toasts me to a dead-halt. i immediately u-turn, 180-it and split. i don't even want to encounter wafted air from the passing child (or the blood-thirsty monster that once was a child).

now, there are several ways to look at this h1n1 situation: there's the optimist: they wear masks and use the anti-bacterial handwash endlessly. they dress their kids in so much protective gear that they look like the late michael jackson's kids. there's the pessimist: these people believe that we're all going to get the swine flu, no matter what. then, there's the cynical optimist. this person believes that the swine flu is really just a scam. the flu is the flu, they say. nice try pharmaceutical companies, they sneer, but you're not getting my money! or you may be the cynical pessimist: this person also thinks that the swine flu is not the swine flu, but perhaps a way for the government to test new vaccines, or implant microchips, or spread a superbug that will cut down the world's population, semi-naturally.

and now, best case scenario: it really is the h1n1 strain of the flu. some people are going to get it. some have died and will die. and the world is short on vaccines; a vaccine that's relatively new and therefore, experimental. so if the superbug doesn't get us, the vaccine may... and isn't the vaccine procured from the actual virus, anyway!? so if the superbug continues to evolve, and many of us can't fight it... if zombie boy and countless others have already been infected... how long will it be until the zombie apocolypse?!?

as i prepare to face the rest of my day, i throw 800mg of vitamin c into my mouth and squirt another shot of anti-bacterial lotion onto my hands. i kind of wish woody harrelson was here. i could use a pot-smoking zombie killer to hang out with right about now.

(a good, fun zombie movie: 3.5 out of 4)