Faster than you can say “apocalypse sandwich” Jason and I can be ready to be rotten. Recently we, once again, coated our skin in grey, covered ourselves with foul lacerations and painted ourselves bruised for the annual SLC Zombie Walk. This event is kind of like a flash mob only, instead of dancing, the thousands of zombies just limp along a mile of downtown looking freakish and surreal. Jason and I, oddly enough, have much experience behaving undead and we are always happy to lend our decrepit savvy to these ragtag hobblers.

My particular style of undead, not surprisingly, reflects my style of not-dead. Whenever I get into zombie character the same gait and facial expression emerge: a dragging right foot, limp unthought-of arms, a vacant eerie stare and a slightly open mouth. Doesn’t it seem logical that an often spacey person, such as myself, would make an absentminded reanimated corpse? It’s as natural as the unnatural gets.

Apparently, my reflexive zombie demeanor is quite convincing, however, it’s also quite slow. My unsymmetrical shuffle, according to Jason, makes a mile take a while. Unlike many at the walk, I never break character but this time I did do my best not to dawdle while still remaining authentic. It was a challenge but I think I pulled it off pretty well.

Many entertained watchers, enthusiastic picture-takers and confused bystanders lined the walk’s route this time, more than we’ve seen other years. Some onlookers even brought lawn chairs and camped out for the rank parade. I hope all you roadside snacks found our dripping corpses and malicious gazes disturbingly diverting. Jason and I are looking forward to painting the town grey with decay again next year.