Zombie Pub Crawl Hangover: Lost and found at Bullwinkle
Blood splatters still stained the sidewalk Monday night outside Bullwinkle.
At 6:01 on Monday night, they started arriving at Bullwinkle Saloon on Seven Corners: the formerly undead, this time on the hunt not for brains (or Brain Belt Beer) but for phones. And driver's licenses. And wallets. And keys.
One of the first women in the door gets bad news: Of the phones recovered, none is a white iPhone.
"What bars did you go to?" asks bartender Kevin Brossart, trying to give her other leads.
"I don't even remember where we went," the woman replies. "I suppose if I did I wouldn't have lost my phone."
On Monday afternoon, two days after Zombie Pub Crawl took over the West Bank, the organizers of the annual extravaganza declared Bullwinkle the lost and found headquarters. "Everything found at the crawl is being dropped off at Bullwinkle Saloon at 6pm," they posted on their Facebook page. "Go there and try to recover yourself!"
The first still-hungover zombie walks in right at 6, and walks out again without her phone. Same for the guys behind her, looking for a wallet.
"It's IDs, IDs, IDs," says Brossart of the goodies in the lost and found pile. "And some credit cards." Also in the box: wallets (moved to the bar's safe), a handful of phones (the bartenders make people prove their identities before turning them over), a stack of keys, some lip glosses, and even a gas mask.
"I think they're going to have to expand the pub crawl," says Brossart. He worked Saturday night, and saw Bullwinkle -- outside the crawl's official quarantine zone -- packed to capacity, with zombies waiting in line up to 90 minutes just to get in, and then stacking up three-deep for drinks. Outside the bar, the sidewalks are stained with zombie blood, and the bartenders say the red trail starts all the way over at the Metrodome.
Brossart and the two other bartenders working recall seeing "pretty much every costume you can think of," says Brossart, "just add blood": zombie hot dog, zombie Pippi Longstocking, lots of zombie Paul Bunyans, and even an undead bachelorette party, with the bride-to-be in black.
Another woman comes in looking for her keys -- both car and house, with a "home sweet home" tag on them, she explains -- but strikes out. Next in is a man searching for his girlfriend's wallet. No luck. Same for the man behind him, who eases the pain of his missing stuff by ordering jalapeno poppers.
By bar close at 2 a.m., just a handful of the recovering zombies have been reunited with their belongings.
"We still have a couple more phones, and even a Coach purse with cash and an ID in it, in the safe," says bar manager Karissa Johnson on Tuesday morning. "We'll keep it until the pub crawl says otherwise."
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