It was about a year ago when I had my first, and so far only, encounter with zombies. The hubby and I made the trek to downtown Boston to find a cozy little bar in which to watch Game 7 of the Bruins vs. Flyers game. Only a few days earlier, the Bruins had taken a 3-0 series lead, putting them only one game away from moving on to the next round. And yet, here we were, a few days later, and the Flyers had managed to tie the series at 3 forcing a Game 7.

We had not yet had dinner, so finding a place that served food and didn't have a line down the street was difficult to say the least. We finally found a place that even included beer girls handing out free t-shirts. We ordered our beer and some chicken wings and got ready to enjoy the game. It looked promising as the Bruins jumped out to an early 3-0 lead (sound familiar?). As time went on, the Flyers scored one goal and then another to slowly close the gap. Before we knew it, the game was tied at 3 (again, sound familiar?). It was frustrating to see them blow such a substantial lead. As time ticked by, eventually the Flyers scored goal number 4 to put them in the lead for the first time in the game. And the score would remain that way until the final buzzer sounded.

All of a sudden, we found ourselves in quite the predicament. We had gone from chilling in the seemingly safe little bar, to being stranded in downtown Boston following a Bruins Game 7 loss. We knew that if we wanted to make it out alive and in one piece, we needed to move and fast. As we stepped out of the bar, we could already hear them, the groans, the moaning, the blood curdling screams.

"We need to get out of here. NOW!" We almost said in unison.

We quickened our pace towards the Government Center T station. We knew that with the North Station being the busiest station, that is where they would likely attack first. Government Center was the next closest so we figured we would use that for our getaway.

We always thought that they would be a lot slower, like the ones you see on TV stumbling down the street seemingly drunk. However, they may be slow, but I would liken our situation to that of a horror movie. You know, the ones where the victim could be in a dead sprint and the murderer is walking at a snail's pace and is yet somehow still gaining on his or her victim? Our fast walk quickly turned into a jog and then more of a sprint. There were a few others running along with us who had managed to also escape unscathed.

As we neared the station, all of the beer I had drank at the bar was really starting to catch up to me.

"I don't think I can make it," I said to Ben as we passed some Porta Potties. "I really need to go."

"Quickly," he said, "We want to make it on the train before they get here."

I dashed into the first available Potty. Who am I kidding? It was 11PM on the day of the Zombie Apocalypse. There was no one in any of the Potties. Before this night, I had never realized how hard it is to use a Porta Potty in the dark. You forget that they don't come equipped with lights until the rare occasion comes when you have to use it in the middle of the night. The fact that I was trying to hurry didn't make it any less messy.

I stumbled out of the Potty just in time to see them slowly coming up the street. I should really be given the Survivor Immunity Award just for that, but I don't think that would prevent me from being attacked.

We ran the rest of the way to the station just as a train was arriving. We quickly squeezed on with the other survivors. The train pulled away just as they got to the platform. They yelled and waved their fists angrily as we drove away to safety.

We emerged from this encounter without so much as a bruise or a scratch, but we'll be sure to be more prepared next time.

Song of the Week:
In honor of the Boston Bruins making it to the Stanley Cup finals for the first time since 1990.