When I was 20 years old I met this girl named Lucia. She was a beautiful and witty Latina girl full of energy and spunk. We used to go out together all the time as friends and eventually started dating. Things got pretty serious and we really started to think about our future together; even the possibility of marriage. I remember we were coming close to our one year anniversary. I had planned a cruise to the Bahamas and saved up for several months. I bought the tickets and came home to surprise her. When I got home early from work she was already there and in bed. I asked her if she was feeling okay and she said she felt like she was catching the flu and just wanted to rest. Lucia didn’t look well at all. She was pale, perspiring and just all around looked ill. I let her sleep, and in the morning went to work again but didn’t wake her. She seemed to be deep asleep and I figured she needed the rest. When I got home that evening I smelled something putrid in the house. It smelled like rotting trash or a dead animal. I sniffed around and the smell was coming from the bedroom. Finally, I came to the bedroom and Lucia was sitting upright in the bed staring out the window. I said “Hey honey, I’m home. How are you feeling? Do you smell that odor? I think it’s coming from in here.” She didn’t move. So I went closer until I was within arms reach to tap her on the shoulder. Just before I reached her she rapidly twisted around and leaped out of the bed at me. Her eyes were black as coal and skin was deathly pale. Reflexively, I grabbed her waist and threw her against the wall. I immediately ran over and toppled the bedroom dresser on top of her to pin her down and then jumped on top to secure it. At that moment while I was teetering on the cabinet with my girlfriend writhing, hissing and biting underneath I came to a realization. My girlfriend was now a zombie! A hot Latina zombie. I chained her down to the bed post with a bike lock chain and a fuzzy handcuff set so that I could have some time to reevaluate our relationship. “How do you break up with a zombie?” I asked myself. “I still have deep feelings for her though. I don’t want to break up….maybe there’s a way I can make this work?” I resolved at that point that this was just a small speed bump in the road of love. Just as new couples have arguments and fights as they learn to adjust to each other’s quirks and habits they usually end up compromising. Sticking it out in the relationship long enough to reach that point of compromise is what makes for a strong relationship. A newly zombified girlfriend? It’ll just take some getting used to.
So, fast forward a few months and things actually fell into their own rhythm. I’d lock her up in the closet in a dog cage with a few chicken wings and go to work for the day. I’d come home and we’d hang out like any other loving couple. I’d bring her out and strap her down to the recliner chair with ratchet down straps used for securing furniture to your truck bed. I’d be in my chair and she in hers and we’d watch I Love Lucy, Jersey Shore or whatever. I’d have popcorn and she’d have a puppy or gerbil that I either found or got from the kennel. After awhile she looked a little thin so I started going out to gay bars on the weekends and getting guys drunk and bringing them home. As they came into the door I’d throw a chloroform soaked rag over their mouth which usually did the trick. They passed out and I’d roll them into the bedroom with Lucia so she could have a treat. We were like two peas in a pod; Lucia and I. I loved her and she loved me; in her own way.
Now, every couple needs to get out of the house and spread their wings a little bit. Occasionally, I’d rent a cabin on this large plot of land in the country and Lucia and I would go get some fresh air. Of course I’d bring a cooler full of beer and sandwiches for me and a trunk full of chloroformed gay men for her. The best part is we both got to stretch out and relax. I’d take the guys out and lay them in the grass about 100 yards away from the cabin. Lucia and I would be on the porch. As the men started waking up and moving around, still groggy from the chloroform, I’d let Lucia off her chain. She'd have so much fun chasing around after them and I got some quite time to read my book. Everything was working out great until one day we came back from our cabin retreat and she got out of the car at a local gas station. She ran out into the road and a semi truck plowed right into her. Her body exploded into dozens of one pound chunks of flesh. Whatever wasn’t stuck to the truck’s grill or had ricocheted off to the sides ended up as paste on the pavement. The trucker got out in horror thinking he’d killed my girlfriend. I told him not to worry about it; that she was my zombie girlfriend and was already dead anyway. He breathed a sigh of relief, got back in his truck and drove off. I shrugged my shoulders and realized, at the point, that I was just kidding myself trying to keep a relationship going with a zombie girl.
No comments:
Post a Comment