Last December, I had lunch at the Rogers Park Five Guys with a student from DePaul. I have no clue how old he was—a friend of mine was trying to hook us up—but he smelled bad and was struggling to grow a beard. I played with my french fries, listening to him drone on about zombies and trying to figure out what to say if he ever gave me the chance. A few more minutes passed. Finally: “Would it be possible for people to become zombies through medicine?” he mused.
I was a biology major at the time, so I perked up. “Well, it could happen if a virus is tested on people illegally and causes genes to mutate,” I said. “Or if someone engineers a virus, like the t-virus in Resident Evil.”
He laughed. “You couldn’t possibly like Resident Evil.”
“Why?” I challenged, assuming he thought that I claim to be a fan because of the movies.
“You’re a girl. Resident Evil isn’t a girl’s game.”
Sure, it’s a game with gore, violence and angry people—and when I had the right video-game console, I played it every week and made my way through the final level. What would be a girl’s game? Final Fantasy X-2? One of those karaoke things? Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I can’t like a first-person shoot-’em-up with zombies.
I lied to him about remembering that I had a doctor’s appointment in Streeterville and apologized for having to leave abruptly. I got up from my chair, buttoned my coat and told him to have a good day. As I walked to the Red Line, I made a mental note that anyone I date has to be comfortable with me enjoying games where the character I control gets to punch, smash and sometimes kill people. Or zombies.—Monica, 19/female/bisexual/single/Uptown