Before I continue, let me say the following: I would most likely be one of the first people to die in the event of an actual zombie apocalypse. I’ve only fired a gun once in my life, and I screamed like a little girl when I felt the recoil. What’s more, I’m not the most…athletic person around (if Zombieland taught us anything, it’s that the fatties are the first ones to go). Basically, I started writing this article on a three-hour train ride from New York to Baltimore, and I couldn’t think of anything else to write other than this. Also, ever since my first encounter with Left 4 Dead (and its sequel, which is totally sweet), I’ve been convinced that the undead are going to come running out of the woods near Kent Crossing whenever I’m walking home late at night. So, without further ado, I present four places which would be made awesome by the presence of zombies.

1. Williamsburg (Brooklyn, NY)
Come on, how could I not imagine Williamsburg becoming overrun by bloodthirsty hoards of infected hipsters? Anyone who’s walked down Bedford Avenue on a Saturday night can easily picture this scenario. Just subtract the American Spirits and cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon, replace them with various severed body parts, and you’re halfway there. Think of all the bandanas, brightly colored leggings and ironic moustaches speckled with blood and brains. And the vegans! What would become of them? Would they only eat other vegans, or would they just die of starvation? Furthermore, is it possible for zombies to still possess discriminating taste when it comes to food? For some reason, it isn’t very difficult to imagine a Williamsburg zombie begrudgingly announcing I can tell the difference between this and organic fair-trade human flesh, thank you very much. Of course, that image rests upon the existence of undead intelligentsia. Actually, that thought scares me more than that of an ordinary zombie apocalypse. Envision this: you’re taking shelter in an abandoned record store, and a recently-bitten hipster staggers into the room to deliver a five minute lecture on how Passion Pit sold out before taking a bite out of your shoulder. Now that’s a story to tell your grandchildren. Of course, you mostly likely wouldn’t have any grandchildren, let alone any children, after being turned into a zombie.

2. Facebook
Yes, I’m aware that Facebook doesn’t necessarily count as a place, but I’m interested in what my News Feed would look like in the event of a zombie attack, particularly in terms of mobile updates:
Sandra is ready to get crunk (9:18 pm)
Sandra got bit by sum crazy guy at the party WTF (12:06 am)
Sandra not feeling so hott will post pics in the morning (12:23 am)
Sandra srsly sick guys.can sum1 takeme to the hospital? (12:30 am)
Sandra rly hungry (12:35 am)
Sandra hOIEnga;wszkjvhawruOBAktghb,JO : (12:43 am)
Steve joined the groups “I hate it when you have to pee and there are zombies in the bathroom,” “I survived the Blizzard/Zombie Invasion of 2010,” “The Second Amendment: Defense Against Zombies and Tyranny”
Jesse created an event:
“Is anyone on the third floor alive? Come to Room 302. I have beer!”
Also, imagine receiving Farmville requests while waiting to be rescued from flesh-eating monsters. Annoying? Yes…but still somewhat hilarious and life-affirming.

3. The DMV
Zombie bureaucrats. Enough said.

4. Chestertown, MD
Of course, when I think about places whose degree of wicked-sweetness would be increased by a zombie occupation, I can’t leave out good old Chestertown. Just think of all of the awesome hiding places. The C.A.C could easily become fortified with some barbed wire and barricades made from those wooden chairs and picnic tables, and the O.I.T. office in the lower level of William Smith would work very well in a Night of the Living Dead “let’s all hide in the basement” scenario…and it has vending machine. Also, the fact that there are at least four liquor stores in Chestertown would make for some pretty sweet drunken looting. Or, if looting isn’t really your thing, you could always copy Shaun of the Dead and hole up in The Bird (although I’d worry about all of the windows in the front). Obviously, Chestertown is conducive to escaping by boat a la the remake of Dawn of the Dead, but the possibility of gun-wielding, underwater-walking Land of Dead¬-esque zombies would make the Chester River a very scary body of water to cross. Actually, the fact that I’m able to equate Chestertown with the settings of four zombie movies has led me to a startling realization. Chestertown is most likely going to be one of the first places to be overrun by zombies. Oh man. Neil Gaiman was right when he said that Chestertown is the kind of little town where something terrible would happen in a horror film. Good thing I’m graduating.

Well, enough of this zombie business. I’m going to watch The Proposal and dye my hair.