The First Time I… Got Hit On Dressed as a Pregnant Zombie

If there’s anyone who can say they’re totally obsessed with Halloween, it’s me. I love Halloween, it’s my favorite holiday and I go all out every year. I mean, my kitchen is decked out in orange and black tinsel and my front door and porch are covered in fake cobwebs for Christ’s sake. However, this particular year I decided to do head-to-toe green zombie makeup, complete with black, brown and blue splotches topped off with a surplus of blood. I then put on this obnoxiously large farmer’s flannel and some oversized Levi’s overalls so I could stuff the outfit like a pregnant women. I then bought a baby doll, which I covered in identical zombie makeup. I cut the baby’s body off, and then sewed the freshly painted zombie head to the shirt. I looked truly tragic. This was seriously the craziest costume I had done to date, I put so much time and effort into this. This was the kind of Halloween costume you’re not getting laid in.

My friends and I were getting ready to go to a party that night. It was my friends boyfriends party, and showing up, we were all pretty much unrecognizable. All of my friends costumes were equally as detailed so nobody could even tell who were actually were under our ridiculous facades. There actually weren’t that may people that I knew there in the first place, but there was this guy who I start talking to, or rather, who started talking to me surprisingly. The first thing he asks me is,

“Are you supposed to be Laura from Walking Dead?”

I guess a there is a pregnant character from Walking Dead, and it would have been pretty clever to come as her in zombie form, but that thought had not even crossed my mind.

“I guess I could be her, that would make more sense,” I replied, wondering how I never even made that connection when concocting my most involved costume yet.

As the night goes on, this guy keeps coming back to talk to me all night, about the Walking Dead amongst other things, including how my costume is like the “coolest thing ever.” As I’m flattered, all I can think is that this guy has no idea what I actually look like, zombie makeup removed. There’s absolutely no way he even had a clue due to the fact that the people that I actually knew at the party couldn’t even figure it out for the first half an hour I was there.

I’m thinking to myself at this point, “There’s no way this guy is hitting on me. He probably just thinks I’m funny or something, or like, really appreciates the effort of the costume.” But I am starting to get slightly weirded out because this guy keeps returning. He’s been talking to me all night.

I even go over to my friends to tell them how weirded out I now am, which is an extremely odd picture if you visualize a bunch of zombies, witches and other Halloween creatures, completely wasted, specifically a drunk, pregnant zombie telling her friends, “Guys, I don’t know if this guy maybe just knows what I look like underneath all this, or worse, he has some weird freaky baby zombie fetish,” with a baby head hanging out of the front of her shirt.

The night goes on, and by the time it hits about 4 am, I’m so hammered, and tired, and my heavily layered zombie makeup is beginning to itch. I tell my friends I’m going to go pass out somewhere. I make it to the couch just in time to knock out cold for the night in the middle of the living room, zombie makeup and all.

When I groggily awoke the next morning, only one part of my body resembles my living, human self. My left arm that had been exposed all night has been wiped completely clean, and this zombie fetish guy has taken the time to write his phone number down on my arm. How he cleaned my arm of green, black and blue to this day is still a mystery to me because that shit was laid on thick, and how I didn’t feel it is even more suspicious. Waking up in any kind of makeup in the morning after a night of heavy drinking is always a gross feeling, but imagine waking up as a pregnant zombie feeling as if the skin on your face has actually cracked in half.

This guy had taken the time to actually wipe the makeup off, which could have taken him god knows how long, all just to give his number to a girl who he had no idea if she was actually cute or not. It seriously was as if he showered solely my arm. I mean, there was no remnants of makeup at all. To top it off, not only had this guy never actually seen my face, but by the time he left his phone number on my limp arm, I probably looked absolutely terrifying asleep on the couch in cracked zombie makeup, most likely mouth ajar as well.

Apparently, I am in fact hilarious, and my personality was simply shining through my exterior, which resembled that of the dead. If I had come to a bar dressed like this on any given night other than Halloween, this guy would think the world, or his life, was ending. Or he would probably call the cops because I had most likely come in off the street where I had conversations with myself in front of my box home as uncomfortable pedestrians passed by me, attempting not to stare.

Needless to say, I never called him. All I was thinking is that he probably has some issues he needs to work out, possibly along the lines of “zombie fetish.” Also, this guys costume, which I fail to remember what it was in the first place, was something in which his face was totally visible and let’s just say, it wasn’t all that better than mine probably looked; a drooling, sleeping, pregnant, most likely ex-wife, zombie.

the-first-time-zombie-illustration-galore

Story courtesy of Brittany Bush

Illustration courtesy of Jorge Contreras.

There’s a first time for everything, and I don’t just mean your “first time.” Of course, there’s vital, “right of passage” first times that everyone must encounter at some point, for example, moving to a new place, getting your heart broken, and making your first humiliating, drunk decision. Yet first times are imperative to the better (or often, identical) mistakes we’ll make later, and teach us the lessons that we’ll continue to not learn from. Every week, we’re going to be telling real first time stories from real girls, and that includes everything from celebrity house parties to Instagram marriage proposals.


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