Attack of the Z words

I have a pathological fear, and lately, it’s becoming more and more of a problem.

I’m only going to use the word once. Afterwords, we’re calling them “Zs”. Got it? Good.


Now, it’s not as though I believe in them. I do not believe that Zs are real.

But they scare the crap out of me.

I’m pretty sure the damage was done when I was pretty young. I still remember watching a few minutes of “Night of the Living Dead” with my parents when I was WAY too little to be okay with that. I vividly recall every scene I saw. A Dad with a gun pointed at his daughter, because she’d become a Z, but he didn’t want to kill her. A gas station blowing up, and Zs eating the charred flesh…(Sorry. I can’t even finish that sentence.)

In typical Flemmily fashion, though, I remember asking some very academic questions that may have led my parents to believe I wasn’t afraid. Questions such as:

“Why is he pointing the gun at her?”

“Why are they eating the people who just got burned up?”

“Why are they walking that way?”

“What’s wrong with their eyes?”

I’m sure my parents thought I was moderately curious, and left it at that. I’m positive I left shortly thereafter.

I’m also positive they had no idea I was scarred for life.

Now, my Z-word phobia didn’t really rear its head until college, and I think that’s for a pretty simple reason.

Zs weren’t in. Seriously—-how many Z movies/costumes/books did you hear about in the mid to late 90’s?

Oh, but in the 2000’s? All about the Zs.

Granted there were some appearances, but it was mostly contained to horror flicks, which I avoid anyway. I get nightmares. Don’t even get me started on “The Ring.” **Shudder** So, I escaped relatively unscathed for a decade or so.

Until Zs came back, in force.

It started with a public safety officer, who liked to walk like a Z. Vacant eyes, arms outstretched, moaning slightly. The first time he did that to me, I curled up in the fetal position and started crying.

I might as well have said, “Game on!”

It became a favorite prank among college friends, to Z attack me in force. It happened at RA camp, at retreats, any given Tuesday in the hallway. No one seemed to notice that it really wasn’t funny to me. My heart would start POUNDING, and I usually cried. I often curled up or crumpled into corners.

Even the spoofs got to me. At an RA retreat, we wound up watching “Shaun of the Dead” in a little out of the way cabin.

I had a full on panic attack. A co-RA had to take me outside and give me a hug.

And then there was a Z walk incident. I went to school in Seattle, and Z walks were common enough in October. And a friend of mine was devious enough to put me downtown at a breakfast joint right by the windows when one came by.

Nice friends have I.

Essentially, a group of fans dress up like Zs and attack pre-chosen victims every block.

And I still don’t understand. People think this is fun?

It upset me so that I cannot even speak of it. It was like all my worst nightmares had come true. Safe to say, however, that this person and I are no longer friends. I’m also pretty sure I’m not welcome back in that restaurant.

The problem I’m having now is that Zs are popping up all over the place. They’re in, big time. They’re even taking over my safe places–places like bookstores. Pride and Prejudice and Zs? Totally unneccesary. And the worst part is, I think they’re gaining power. I suspect there will be more and more books I avoid in the coming years.

Apparently the majority of the population thinks Zs are cool.

Well, I do not.

And if they could get the Z Babies out of the Spirit Halloween stores, I’d be greatful.

Seriously. Who thought that was a good idea? I’d post a picture, but then I’d never be able to check my blog again.


1 Comment

  1. Heather said,

    October 31, 2009 at 2:09 pm

    watch out for the zombies tonight

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: