The zombie always wears these tattered clothes.
I brought him home this Dallas Cowboys shirt and a pair of cargo pants I got from a goodwill store, and he just stared at them. He didn’t try them on or say thanks or anything.
I thought, ‘well, screw you too, zombie.’ I mean, at least thank me for the effort!
Anyway, I came home today and he was wearing the new stuff!
But he had ripped them up, so he must love the tattered look.
I googled ‘tattered look + zombie,’ and I found out it’s a cultural thing. I guess I shouldn’t have been so close-minded. Living with a zombie is a lot more educational than I ever thought it’d be.