Speed Dating 60 William Acker “So, what do you look for in a partner?” I said, predicting the next response in my head. “Brains!” the zombie said, staring at me. Well, at my frontal lobe as far as I could tell. What I couldn’t determine was if the swipe towards me was supposed to be considered romantic or aggressive. As you can assume, the date quickly became repetitive, and I did not see us going forward together. Trying to prevent the next few minutes from becoming a total waste, I capitalized on the empty space where conversations should be and began speaking aloud to the zombie, not sure if they understood me. “I’m new to town,” I sighed, not sure how much of my tale I was willing to disclose, “originally from a small town in the U.S., just recently turned.” I smiled, which showed my fangs, sharp, freshly brushed and mostly satiated from a deer dinner the night prior. “What was your name again?” “Brains,” the zombie spoke uninterestedly. You know your stories are good when they bore a zombie. “I’ll call you Bry for short. Now Bry, I know you’re a part of the undead, but never answer a Craigslist ad of someone asking to ‘Feed from Your Essence’. That was not a post- modern way of asking for a night out of the town. After waking up behind a Wendy’s a few towns over, I realized I’d been turned. I’m sure you get the feeling.” “Brains.” I hoped that wasn’t offensive. I knew modern movies showed zombies as people who were bitten by other zombies, but after joining the world of the weird, I realized all is not as it seems in Hollywood movies. I was never into horror, but my new home of Transylvania was nothing like the movies. As Bry sat in front of me with his mouth agape and looking blankly in the air, I took the moment to examine the