Zombies Attack Chicago!

Last weekend, Wicker Park played host to a massive band of roving zombies. The horde of undead had collectively risen and come out for a Michael Jackson Thriller Zombie Walk, an event one part flash mob, one part killer dance moves, one part gore. When Melissa jokingly suggested going ("Check out this facebook event...not to say that we should go"), my only question was, "Why aren't we going?" So on Sat night, I found myself in a bathroom, dousing my hair with talcum powder and applying circles under my eyes with the appropriate rest-in-unpeace zeal. The end result looked something like this:

To further prepare, I also spent some time analyzing the Thriller dance. Actually, there seems to be a cottage industry of instructional videos that show you how to get the perfect blend of Jackson-finesse and jutting, angular movements. My personal favorite was this 80s (parody?) video of "Totally Rad Dances with Dancing Kim," in which the narrator talks about how the Thriller dance is "totally cool" and she is "totally obsessed" with it. If you are looking for a more accurate version of the choreography though, I recommend this 40-part video series with helpful mnemonics for each dance move. I can now do the March Booty Swim!

At this point we were running 15 minutes late, and racing to get to the meeting point of Wicker Park. I mentally surveyed our options for the rest of the night should we not find the zombie horde; what bars could we hang out inconspicuously at with outstretched claws?

Luckily, as we were walking down Damen, we were greeted with the sound of howls and screams in the night. All of the sudden, we were in the midst of a mass of people who looked something like this:

There were definitely a few confused pedestrians who got caught in the zombie invasion. One guy said to his friend, "And this is why we live in the suburbs." (Then he pretty much put on a shirt that said "I am a square.") Actually, the event invitation made sure to emphasize a few ground rules, the first one being "No touching of pedestrians!" Also, "Do not drip blood on the sidewalks!"

We continued down Ashland towards the Polish Triangle, hooting at cab drivers, banging fists on bus windows and reaching outstretched claws to people who had otherwise been having a peaceful al fresco dinner. At first, we tried to stay on the sidewalks, but as the crowds grew in size and unruliness, the zombie mob ended up blocking street traffic and intersections. It was like being at Critical Mass, only with fewer bikes and more blood. (Wait, scratch that, there's plenty of blood at Critical Mass too.) And for hipster-approved Irony, there was even an Anti-Zombie Task Force of people clothed in black leather waving batons, trying to arrest and control the zombie horde.

After looping back to the Damen/Milwaukee intersection, we milled around in front of the Wicker Park Fest stage, until a security guard tried to shoo us out of the street. Someone muttered, "Yeah? There's 700 of us and we don't have to go anywhere!" Then, a bike with a stereo system trailing it pulled up to the front of the crowd, and on cue, we all began to dance.

Dancing to Thriller in the middle of the moonlit street in sync with hundreds of people dressed up as zombies was one of the most surreal experiences of my life.

At the end of the night, it was pointed out to me in the middle of 7-11 that there was a bloody hand print on the back of my shirt. Grr, and I really liked this shirt too! If it doesn't come out in the wash, I am going to personally hunt down the perpetrator and make them wish they were undead. I have no idea when it happened or who did it (was it the guy that I gave a fake name to?), but let's just say the Thriller Zombie Walk left an indelible imprint on my life.