CinS got a new video game involving zombies, which is probably my all-time favorite video game topic - probably only because there is yet to be a sweet vampire vs. werewolf video game. Maybe there was some kind of Van Helsing tie-in years ago, but I'm really waiting for a rad Underworld game. Both star Kate Beckinsale so it should be a wash, but IMHO I think Scott Speedman makes a much more compelling video game star than Hugh Jackman, as evidenced by the very lame X-Men 3 game and the "Boy from Oz Dance Party" that was never greenlit by our friends at Xbox.
But back to the zombies. The latest in zombie gaming, Left 4 Dead, is a phenom that has swept the Tribeca gamer community (of CinS and his 2 buddies). And all of these zombies remind me of a fateful night on a quest for McDonalds.
One night, CinS and I were out with some friends, and like most boozy nights, we got a little hungry after hours. Our usual late night snack is the mighty delicious bodega tuna salad and jalapeño dirty chips. But this night, we wanted something different. Something hot. Something from McDonalds.
I was jonsing some McNuggets and CinS was planning his usual combo of a Double Cheeseburger and Filet O'Fish. So we went to the 24-hour McDonalds in our neighborhood as we always do, and the joint was closed. CLOSED! I think it was the Sunday of Labor Day or some other random holiday that definitely involves liquor and late night runs to 24-hour fast food restaurants. The closing was puzzling. And frustrating.
Hopeful and hungry, we took a cab up the street to the other 24-hour McDonalds. It too was closed. Now we're talking about a conspiracy. I was wearing some kind of giant shoe at the time, yet refused to take another cab. At this point, it was a matter of principle. We would find tasty food this night. Oh yes, we would.
And so, we set off on foot towards an often overlooked Burger King on Canal Street, just a few blocks from home. We marched from Houston and Varick to Canal and Broadway. No more than a mile, but in the middle of a drunken night, waiting in vain for tasty treats, the walk was epic.
We arrived at the BK and, of course, it too was closed. But what was that in the distance? All glowing and full of light? A 24-hour McDonalds that was actually open!
We raced down the street and entered the hallowed doors. To our dismay, they were only serving a limited menu at this hour, but it was now close to 3:30 am and we just didn't care. French fries please! It took us about a minute to come down off our high and take in our surroundings.
The McDonalds was packed. But not with people eating. It was filled - wall-to-wall - with dead bodies. Bodies splayed out across the tables, passed out on the benches, some with feet dangling in the walkway. None of the bodies moved. There were a few tables open, but as hungry as we were, there was no way in hell that we were going to eat at this McDonalds. It looked like a scene out of any zombie movie, at the point when all the zombies are asleep and have no idea how close they are to real human brains.
We tiptoed out, fries in hand, and started running home as soon as the door closed behind us. We swore to never return to the Zombie McDonalds. It was lucky that we made it out alive the first time, we weren’t about to push our luck.
The Zombie McDonalds is visible on my way to and from work. It's funny that I never noticed it before, and now it looms at me, hungrily glaring, as if I'm the brains that got away. From the street, I noticed that the McDonalds claims to have three stories of seating, but windows only mark levels one and two. I bet the zombie hideout is on the third floor. There must be something in the secret sauce keeping them alive.
But back to the zombies. The latest in zombie gaming, Left 4 Dead, is a phenom that has swept the Tribeca gamer community (of CinS and his 2 buddies). And all of these zombies remind me of a fateful night on a quest for McDonalds.
One night, CinS and I were out with some friends, and like most boozy nights, we got a little hungry after hours. Our usual late night snack is the mighty delicious bodega tuna salad and jalapeño dirty chips. But this night, we wanted something different. Something hot. Something from McDonalds.
I was jonsing some McNuggets and CinS was planning his usual combo of a Double Cheeseburger and Filet O'Fish. So we went to the 24-hour McDonalds in our neighborhood as we always do, and the joint was closed. CLOSED! I think it was the Sunday of Labor Day or some other random holiday that definitely involves liquor and late night runs to 24-hour fast food restaurants. The closing was puzzling. And frustrating.
Hopeful and hungry, we took a cab up the street to the other 24-hour McDonalds. It too was closed. Now we're talking about a conspiracy. I was wearing some kind of giant shoe at the time, yet refused to take another cab. At this point, it was a matter of principle. We would find tasty food this night. Oh yes, we would.
And so, we set off on foot towards an often overlooked Burger King on Canal Street, just a few blocks from home. We marched from Houston and Varick to Canal and Broadway. No more than a mile, but in the middle of a drunken night, waiting in vain for tasty treats, the walk was epic.
We arrived at the BK and, of course, it too was closed. But what was that in the distance? All glowing and full of light? A 24-hour McDonalds that was actually open!
We raced down the street and entered the hallowed doors. To our dismay, they were only serving a limited menu at this hour, but it was now close to 3:30 am and we just didn't care. French fries please! It took us about a minute to come down off our high and take in our surroundings.
The McDonalds was packed. But not with people eating. It was filled - wall-to-wall - with dead bodies. Bodies splayed out across the tables, passed out on the benches, some with feet dangling in the walkway. None of the bodies moved. There were a few tables open, but as hungry as we were, there was no way in hell that we were going to eat at this McDonalds. It looked like a scene out of any zombie movie, at the point when all the zombies are asleep and have no idea how close they are to real human brains.
We tiptoed out, fries in hand, and started running home as soon as the door closed behind us. We swore to never return to the Zombie McDonalds. It was lucky that we made it out alive the first time, we weren’t about to push our luck.
The Zombie McDonalds is visible on my way to and from work. It's funny that I never noticed it before, and now it looms at me, hungrily glaring, as if I'm the brains that got away. From the street, I noticed that the McDonalds claims to have three stories of seating, but windows only mark levels one and two. I bet the zombie hideout is on the third floor. There must be something in the secret sauce keeping them alive.
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