Designated driver

Today was just one of those days.
I hate to start a blog with a bitchy posting... but to be fair, today was just one of those days. I spent a hell of a lot more time than I had planned at the shelter. After that I get a few good minutes with some friends before I turn into their designated driver.
Shit. Designated Driver sucks on any night, but it had just been one of those nights. DD sucks on any night, but it's a huge pain in the ass when you've got to shotgun a few dozen undead pricks on your way in.
And I ran into so many of those god forsaken bastards at the shelter today. I hate to stereotype, but the women are really the nastiest ones. Always, always, always, it's one of the women that really sticks in your mind as freakishly disgusting. Some of them just have this odor to their flesh that always let's you know - this one's going to be trouble. I tend to believe that it's their body still producing sweat as their rotting heart pumps that poison that gives them life. Forcing their decaying dripping cadavers to march and murder until there is literally nothing left to move. Even the piles of broken down zombies that line the streets of Downtown still twitch with life. Scratch that. Twitch with undeath. Calling those assholes alive is a slander against the living.
I've got no idea why the zombies don't kill me, and I have no idea how I'm ever going to forget their smell. I will tell you this. Don't get lazy. If you're reading this you're clearly doing something to educate yourself, so that's good. But take it from me, there isn't good instruction on this nightmare subject. This hell subject... Surviving in this world isn't anything more than luck. Pure, stupid luck. That, and an acute sense of cowardice. If it looks scary, run. If you don't recognize it, run. If it smells like the toilet in Gitmo, run. If it is chasing after you growling and drooling and wants to rip your skin from your bones... you get the idea.
Anyways, we didn't have any problems near the car, which is usually a big deal. The place had been starting to get unbearable with the corpses, but these past few weeks have been so slow we haven't been killing like we had in the past, and someone actually got around to clearing some of the mess. But wouldn't you know as soon as I missed my turn one of those shits jumped out in front and spun me out. After this dude scraped himself off the sidewalk I kinda felt bad for the guy. Maybe that's what makes me human. Maybe that's what I'm fighting to keep alive. This dead dude, he didn't look dead for all too long. He still had that terrified look in his eye. Like whatever murdered him was still chasing him down. These freaking things... it probably still is. Like I said this guy hasn't been dead all that long, and he can still freaking move. By the time I get a shell in the breach he's right at my window. I was lucky he didn't tear me apart. There's no excuse either, no reason why I didn't already have a shell chambered and took him apart without hesitation. I let myself get distracted, and that gets to me more than the whole DD thing. That's luck for you though. I would have been so embarrassed too, in front of my friends. I usually say run, but if you need to get something done, get a gun. Run, and get a gun. You'll never have a closer ally, or a better friend, than your gun.
Turns out this one guy's just the start. I go down a one way street, there's one in my way. I turn the corner and there's four bobbling around the sidewalk like it's a freaking dice game. I have no idea what these things feel amongst one another; where the sense of community is. I have no idea why they're here bunched together. It must be like meeting someone you know through your dreams. It's nothing. Two testicles in a ballsac bouncing against each other. It's barely any register on their sense of being or presence. All they know is pain and suffering, and that's all they ever bring. It's like this for blocks. I came across a giant nutsack of them with that look in their eyes. That look like they're scared and pissed at the same time. Not just pissed, but really pissed. Really get that shotgun out of my face pissed.
By the time I got to the bar I was low on ammunition and, to be honest, a little over the night already.
Again, I apologize that I had to get on here and vent. The drive back wasn't even that brutal. I have a great comfort on my own. It's just now I finally get to the safety of the community, but I just know I can't relax and enjoy it.
I've got to stand by the phone waiting to play chauffeur again. Not only am I DD, I'm not invited. Like I said, I'm not worried about being alone, I feel safe on my own. I'm afraid of the danger I put myself and others in just to get a drink and listen to some karaoke that will really kill you.
THAT'S who has it the worst. Small businesses. I complain, but these guys were really hit hard by this whole thing with the undead. The government says they're helping but they're pretty much worthless. I'm so disenchanted with the whole idea of big government right now you have no idea. But what can I do? I'll save my problems with this dog and pony show we call the army for some other time. I'm exhausted. I'd kill for a beer right now.