Most would like to claim they woke from some coma, nap, sleep, or whatever when they first realized zombies were real. It's easier for the human psyche to accept that we went to sleep when the world existed in a certain state and just simply woke up to an altered state rather than acknowledge the events preceding our transition. I, however, am unforeseeablely altered by what took place the night my eyes first observed a real life zombie.

The night ran as routinely as any. There was a complaint of someone puking early in the night but these things happen in the restaurant industry. I first felt apprehension when our back of house manager (who usually religiously supported the cooks) took off out of his kingdom without explanation. Initially the kitchen did what it does best: we took control of our service for prideful reasons. Then I saw something I never wanted to see in this world.

A waitress came bursting into the kitchen and stopped near me.

"You were right, they exist."

In a moment I saw a zombie tackle her and start to rip the flesh from her face and I felt a profound sense of belittlement.

I had largely written this woman off as a lifelong bible thumper. We had an argument a few years ago involving the zombie apocalypse and she believed the world would end in a biblical style rapture should we enter the next chapter of survival. Clearly she was wrong.

As I saw her being eaten I noticed other flesh eaters in my proximity and still to this day find it scary how easy it was for me to adapt. Normally I would have never dared to hurt another human being physically but I logically knew I had to defend myself before I could realign my morals. The first thing within my reach was a tool we used to clean the broiler. It was largely joked about that this was a "zombie killing tool" but I wasn't prepared to use it as such until survival instinct took over.

I swung without regard and felt a resistance to my blow that sickened me, I knew I was swinging into a person. Even though I knew I was in danger the feeling awakened some primal reaction that made me feel nauseous as an inferno of adrenaline ignited. Two more zombies snapped closer and with a quick decision I dropped my previous weapon and grabbed my over-sized cutting board to swung into them. The corner caught one of them in the side of the head an knocked them both onto the broiler. One of the biters was pinned under the cutting board and creating a horrible smell as it cooked while the other was recoiling to attack. Without thinking I grabbed a knife and stabbed the attacker through it's chin at a slightly slanted angle. As the deader dropped I retrieved the "zombie killing tool" and smashed it into the cutting board crushing the head of my cooking corpse underneath.

Three zombies down, three points.

When I stopped to catch my breath I knew all the living eyes in the room were on me. I turned to my cooks and saw admiration reflected back. Despite knowing better I basked in it a bit before I heard yelling.

"Behind you!"

I turned to see the waitress who had been an ironic living dead snack about to rip my face off. I pushed her back but the force sent me reeling as well. Her undead back hit a shelving unit which automatically righted her orientation for an attack whereas my backward momentum put me on the ground and completely vulnerable. At this point time slowed down and I specifically remember thinking that despite my reputation as a zombie apocalypse conspiracist that I would ultimately fail to live up to it, the final blow to my false bravado. Acceptance had kicked in about the same time as the mysterious killing blow landed on the unfortunately turned waitress.

I opened my eyes to see Bill (my zombie apocalypse co-conspirator) standing triumphantly with a frying pan in his hands, its round shape now more of a moon.

"Fucking christ man!" He scolded in his usual colorful tone. "Rookie mistake."

"I know." I said physically righting and arming myself. "Now let's get out of here."