“Okay, I want you to each pick a profession. Any profession you could possibly think of.,” says Jo. “First thing that comes off the top of your head.”
“Computer programmer,” says Marc.
“Truck driver,” says Brody.
I look around. “Ballet dancer,” I say.
Jo smiles. “Alright, now here’s the scenario. You’re in shark infested water. There are three of you on the boat. There is a hole in your boat. You are approaching an island but you are sinking at a speed that you’d have to throw one person overboard in order to make it. Now tell me… why do you deserve to live, based on your professions?”
Oh fuck. Ballet dancer? Fucking !@*$(!@$.
Marc clears his throat from laughing his ass off. “Um… well. Just like the little girl in Jurassic Parc, if there turn out to be any computer systems on this deserted island, well, I would be useful to unlock doors and stuff. If it’s Jurassic Parc, anyhow.”
“I’m a truck driver,” says Brody, “so that means that I’m used to being on my own for long periods of time. I have good survival skills then, and I’m least likely to go apeshit and try to kill the other guy on my island.”
“Since I’m likely very fit, I could easily climb trees and stuff and get coconuts for myself and for my island-mate,” I argue.
Marc: “Since I’m a computer geek, I probably don’t take much food.”
Me: “I’m a ballet dancer. I take even LESS food.”
Brody: “I probably take the most food, but being a trucker I’m most likely the one who has the guts to go out and kill some more food.”
Brody: “I know 1000 songs that I’ve heard from 1000 radio stations from all over the states, and so we can sing anything and everything.”
Me: “I’m a lithe young man. I can dance for you. Let me rephrase that. I can entertain you.”
Marc: “Well, I think without electricity, I’m pretty much fucked in this area.”
Marc: “I say we throw [Jinryu] off the boat”
Me: “I say we throw Marc.”
Brody: “I say we throw Marc out too.”
Marc: “Fuck! Ousted by a ballerina!”
But seriously, sometimes I wish the zombie invasion would begin just so I could test my awesomeness. Of course, it would suck if I got eaten in the first wave because I got trampled by a crowd and couldn’t run. But if I did survive that, it could be interesting, no?
I’m not talking 28 weeks later or 28 days later zombies though. If it’s that sort, well, that’s like a cointoss. In most cases I think I’d just be fucked, because those ones run a bit too fast for my tastes.
But think of it in terms of introspection, and creativity, and positive thinking. I’ve asked this question before, and I’ll ask it again– what do you have that will help you survive the zombie menace?
This is, of course, hypothetical and just for fun. Even stunning good looks might help, if you can use it to charm your fellow survivors into doing the dirty work for you. Don’t be shy!
I think it’d be useful for me because I am pretty balanced with my descision making, and I can keep a pretty cool head under stress. I have some basic hand-to-hand combat savy, basic first aid, speak at least two languages (useful for interacting with other survivors), am handy with basic carpentry (boarding up windows!) and mechanics (fixing cars and bicycles). I’m also pretty fit.
Disadvantages is that I’m the sort of person who will mostly look out for myself because I might be afraid of getting killed because of someone else’s incompetence, so I’m not likely to be a good team leader, and only a reluctant team player. Also, I eat a LOT. If I don’t eat, I get cranky. And I might just give in to the zombies, if it seems they’re eating better than I am. I’m also stupidly afraid of heights.