I have an OKCupid profile, and I’ve turned it into a Choose Your Own Adventure story. You can choose where the story goes and, based on your decisions, you may live happily ever after or suffer a horrible fate. I think this is a better way for a woman to get to know me than just talking about myself in the profile.

As most may not have OKCupid, I’ve put the story in its entirety below. If I somehow find my future wife from this, I will laugh heartily.





Welcome to Dating Sam, A Choose Your Own Adventure



Begin here:



You peruse OKCupid and, while navigating through a sea of needlessly shirtless men, you stumble upon a profile of a man unlike the others. He has a shirt on. Beyond that, he types in complete sentences! Well, mostly. But he knows how! You must meet this man…



On a first date, you meet at a small coffee joint with outside tables. Sam greets you with a smile and a compliment. He pays for the drinks. How charming he is! How chivalrous! While sipping your favorite kind of caffeine delivery at an outside table, you two quickly move on from the basic questions and begin discussing thoughts of a deeper kind. What’s it like being single in such a large city? Why does this place feel so isolated, even though it’s huge and congested? He tells you about the time the engine of his old car crapped out on him at 60mph on the 405. You tell him about the time that thing happened to you at the place and you barely made it out alive. You have a little scar. Clearly, you two have some things in common. You make eye contact over the rim of your favorite caffeine delivery cup that lasts a few good seconds.



A BANG on the window! Another! You both whip your heads to the front of the small coffee joint to see that it’s full of zombies! They slap their ragged arms and smear their vacant faces on the glass. They appear trapped inside, but not for long. They could burst out any second.



Sam suggests you two high tail it out of there, and take his car. But he has a history of cars that try to kill him and this would be a bad time for malfunctioning wiper blades or something… And the glass might break, it should be fortified to keep the zombies in!



To flee with Sam, go to in WHAT I’M DOING



To stay and fortify the small coffee joint, CONTINUE BELOW



You decide that fortifying the cafe is the right thing to do. After all, if these zombies get out, they could do a lot of harm. Containing them is the highest priority. Sam nods, saying, “good point,” and you both proceed to lift the cafe tables and lean them against the glass. Just enough to support the glass from the outside.



Getting close to the glass is frightening, what with all the undead faces gaping at you, bony fingers scraping at the glass. But you’re with Sam, who has this reassuring presence, this confidence and cool under pressure. He’s really good at that. But his eyes focus on something within the cafe. You turn to see what it is. Behind the counter is a pulsing glow, emitting a strange whirring noise. What could it be?



Sam speculates that it could be whatever caused this to happen to people, and you both should find out what it is. Or you could finish barricading the place and contact the police.



To look closer at the mysterious glow, go to SIX THINGS I COULD NEVER DO WITHOUT.



To finish the barricade and contact police, go to I’M REALLY GOOD AT.

“Let’s go!” you say. Sam grabs your hand and you both sprint from the cafe. Your shoes batter the pavement as you make it to the corner. You skid a little bit, but Sam’s firm hold keeps you from falling. Far behind, you hear the glass break. A distant din of groans and shuffling feet crescendoes. You’d better hurry.



Arriving at the car, you both scramble inside. He starts the engine and you buckle up. This doesn’t seem to be a bad car at all. A Honda CR-V. Adventurous, yet sensible. You’re not worried. But you should be! Zombies grab onto the car, about to pile onto it entirely. “FLOOR IT!” you shout, but not in a naggy way. Sam understands the urgency. No apology needed. He stomps the pedal to the floor and the car screeches away. But the zombies hang on and pull themselves towards the windows!



“Get through the sun roof, hit them off!” Sam says. But maybe you should tell Sam to just swerve around, shaking them off instead. Could be safer… but take more time…



To stay in the car and shake off the zombies, go to the FAVORITES section.



To fight the zombies through the sun roof, CONTINUE BELOW



In the back of the car, you lift the floorboard access to the spare tire. You snatch the tire iron and make your way to the sun roof. You nod at Sam; you’re ready. He hits the button and the sunroof slides open. The wind whips your hair (back and forth) as you ascend through the opening. Wielding the tire iron, you swing at the zombies and connect across the face of one, dislodging it from the car.



This was a good idea, you think, smirking — but from the side, an undead hand clutches your arm! You try to resist, but you can’t! Despite thwacking the zombie with the iron, the zombie yanks your arm! You scream! The zombie tears your arm right off! It’s incredibly bloody! OMG!



More zombies that are still on the car pull the rest of you out from the sunroof and make a meal of you right on top of the car. There’s nothing Sam can do but drive away. He shakes his head and says, “This never would’ve happened on Tinder…” THE END.

Sam delicately leans the last table against the glass. It all seems to provide the right amount of pressure against the pushing zombies. “Make the call,” he says.



You take out your phone and dial the police… but there’s no signal. In fact, there’s no signal on any number you dial. Facebook, Twitter. All out. You take a selfie with the zombies in the background and try to post it to Instagram, but that’s down too! You’re not able to see what the world thinks of this phenomenon or your selfie and you and Sam both die from the madness-inducing lack of social media. THE END.

“I’ll stay in here,” you assure Sam, “You just pull some sweet moves on the road and shake these zombies loose!”



Sam nods in agreement. He admires your ideas, your mind. And your confidence in him gives him strength. Eyes focused, he turns on some Led Zeppelin and says, “You know the difference between you and those zombies out there? They don’t have seat belts.” It probably sounded better in his head, but you know, he said it with such bravado that you can’t help but shout, “Seat belts!” This is complete nonsense, but will become an enduring inside joke between you.



The wails of Jimmy Page’s guitar underscore the acceleration. The zombies already have trouble with the speed. He cuts right and left, shaking a few zombies loose. He turns left, onto a boulevard with moderate, post-rush hour traffic. He threads between the cars, letting near collisions scrape even more zombies from the car. These really are some sweet moves. But who is this man? This enigma? You ask, “What are you into, Sam? I mean, really. What’s your most favorite thing in the world?”



“Surviving,” he mutters, eyes still on the road. “But actually, I’m really into movies. Audiobooks and podcasts. Oh, did you listen to Serial—?” An undead hand smashes through the sun roof, flesh barely hanging from the bones, and grabs Sam’s face…



Continue in the SPEND A LOT OF TIME THINKING ABOUT section.

Deciding to investigate the strange glow, you both find a ladder in the alley of the cafe and climb it. While on the roof, you look for a way in. There’s got to be some way to — then you spot it, a loose vent directly above the kitchen area of the cafe. “There!” you say to Sam, pointing. Together, you pry the rest of the vent away and look down. There’s a whole bunch of zombies in the cafe, but they’re mostly in the dining area, not the kitchen.



“Good, we can lower into the—“ Sam says as he slips and stumbles through the vent!



Continue in the TYPICAL FRIDAY NIGHT section.

As the zombie’s fingers tug as Sam’s face, you let out a shriek! Sam swerves the car, hoping to shake off this last zombie, but it’s not working! You grab the zombie arm and, using your considerable wits, you press the button to open the sunroof. Caught in the jagged glass hole, the zombie arm becomes cinched in the frame of the receding sunroof. Like a slow, jagged guillotine, the sunroof snaps the zombie arm right off. It’s disgusting. You discard the severed arm up through the sunroof and the zombie chases after it like a dog after a bone, because it’s clearly a moron. The car is completely zombie free!



But Sam begins to tire from his face wounds. There won’t be permanent scarring. He’ll still be just as handsome, maybe more so! A well-placed scar is hard to find. The car lilts to the left, careens against a parked car whose meter expired, like, fifteen minutes ago. You try to steer the car straight again, but it’s too late. The car crashes, airbags deploy, and Led Zeppelin cuts out — just before the amazing drum solo in Moby Dick. You curse the universe and help Sam from the car.



He’s okay, just needs to rest. But oh no — the one armed zombie shuffles your way, carrying its severed limb like a javelin in the other hand! The zombie hurls it at you two, like some kind of zombie arm spear! Sam moves to step between you and the zombie arm spear. You could let Sam take the blow, or you could push him aside and sacrifice yourself for his safety.



To let Sam take the zombie arm spear, continue on MOST PRIVATE THING YOU’RE WILLING TO ADMIT.



To take the zombie arm spear yourself, to save Sam, CONTINUE BELOW.



“No!” you shout as you shove Sam aside. The zombie arm spear gets you on the right shoulder, spinning you off your feet. The zombie is hit by a car and carried away to be someone else’s problem for a while.



You suffer from your wounds. Sam recognizes the sacrifice. And he tends to your injuries, putting pressure on them. He assures you help is on the way, because he’s good at comforting you. He gets you. He looks deeply into your eyes and says softly, “Thank you.” His sincerity and sweetness stops the bleeding. You don’t need help. You have Sam’s affection.



As you recover, he tends to your every need. You snuggle and watch Friends on Netflix because when it originally aired, you didn’t catch every episode. Sam did, but he doesn’t want you to miss a single thing. THE END.

Quickly, you grab Sam’s hand, saving him from what would definitely be a sprained ankle — and the attention of the zombies… But since he’s already half way down, you lower him the rest of the way and he helps you down as well. You both sneak to the edge of the kitchen. You remark that you feel like a Navy Seal. He agrees. This stealth stuff is kinda fun.



There it is, behind the counter. That pulsing glow is brighter. The strange whirring is louder. At the center of it all… “Is that a… a record player?” you wonder aloud. It is. A vintage record player, with a glowing vinyl record spinning away.



“Of course it is,” Sam remarks, “We had to choose a cafe in Silver Lake, didn’t we.” You both agree that, if you live to see a second date, it’ll be at a more reasonable place. Echo Park, perhaps.



The record must be the cause of all this insanity. If you could just destroy the thing, maybe this’ll all stop. We just have to get to it — Sam’s foot nudges a crate, upon which is a stack of preciously organized pots and pans. They wobble and to your supreme horror, they come crashing down over both of you. Quite the racket…



The zombies take notice, pivoting towards the kitchen area. You could stay to destroy the evil record at the risk of your lives, or climb back out the vent and live to plan another strategy…



To stay and destroy the record, go to the YOU SHOULD MESSAGE ME IF section.



To retreat out the vent, CONTINUE BELOW.



You both look to the vent. It’s pretty high up. You both begin to stack crates on a table, pots on the crates, and anything else you can find to gain some height. But it’s not quite enough! Balancing at the peak of this makeshift mountain, your fingers barely touch the edge of the vent. “Almost… there…” you softly say, reaching with all your might.



“They’re here!” Sam hisses, as Zombies crowd the kitchen, “Go!” You push off the top of the stack and you grab the edge of the vent! You can make it!



Sam fights off several zombies with a frying pan to give you time. You pull yourself up to the roof. You’ve made it! Now to help Sam up. You look down with a hopeful smile on your face and see…



Sam is already torn to shreds by the zombies. His guts are strewn about, entrails draped over the greedy arms of the zombies. You have failed to save him. What a waste. He was a good guy, a real catch. Adventurous, yet sensible. And yet, you let him slip away to be eaten alive by zombies. In Silver Lake, no less.



You go home, shake off the day, and begin to peruse OKCupid once again. THE END.

Sam takes the zombie arm spear square in the chest, and he collapses to the ground. You throw your shoe at the zombie in a rage. It hits the zombie in the head so fast and hard that it kills the zombie instantly.



Sam is about to tell you his deepest, darkest most private thing that he’s now willing to admit to you, involving the combination of a vault buried in a collapsed mine, and the coordinates of that mine, and the country those coordinates are in, and the name of the pilot who would fly you to that country and those coordinates and that mine and the vault with the combination (the pilot would look away as you entered it) and reveal… Well, Sam dies from his wounds. You weren’t able to save him. He dies with that terrible/wonderful secret. And you wonder “What was the name of the pilot! I like pilots! Pilots are hot!” And you would wonder such a thing as this catch— this charming, selfless angel— lay dying before you, wouldn’t you? I thought so. A zombie sneaks up behind you and eats you. THE. END.

You and Sam scramble to the record player and look over it as the Zombies begin to crowd the counter. They reach over the edge of it, knocking over everything in the process. You don’t have much time. “Can we just destroy it?” you ask. Sam shakes his head, says, “No, it’s cursed. If we touch it, who knows what will happen to us.”



Nah, forget that. You take a coffee pot and smash the record player to smithereens. The glow fades and the whir subsides. Sam looks on, shocked that you’d just smash the thing. You smile at him and say, “You’re cute when you overthink things.”



“I do that sometimes,” he says. Smashing the thing seems to have worked! The undead become un-undead, returning to their normal human selves. They’ll never know the adventure you and Sam went on, but you both are okay with this. You know. And that’s what matters.



If you have reached this ending, you have survived — and even ended — the zombie apocalypse. You have the qualities that Sam looks for in a woman: wit, grit, and good chemistry. You should definitely message Sam. The world needs you two.

