It’s not a unique occurrence. For the past two years, and now three, there’s been a pillow fight in this town on Valentine’s day in the biggest business plaza the city has to offer.
It’s not a pretty sight, but it’s paradoxically photogenic. There’s something about a thousand pillows violently, desperately thrashing about in a great throng of struggling, giggling humanity that’s very life-affirming. Or something. All I know is that last year I got deep-throated by some else’s (probably pre-used) pillow feathers and this year I wore a face shield and took pictures instead. And why did I take pictures instead of actually fighting in a pillow fight? Well, like Jane Waterbury (who took the photo to the right) I think having pictures of cool stuff that I’ve gone to makes me cooler. Well, I think that’s what she thinks. It’s what I think. Show ’em off to friends who weren’t there, so that you can prove it. “See what I did for Valentine’s day? You know it’s awesome and that’s why you’re going next year! That’s why you want one in your own town!” It’s what many many many people must be thinking because the number of cameras there was sheerly staggering. You’d think the Superbowl was going on. Except, well…
My personal opinion is that a pillow fight is FAR cooler than the Superbowl. How passé—paying to go to something fun? I am of a new generation that eschews these more manipulative entertainments in favor of those which we ourselves create. We are… enlightened. Sometimes.
Also, I can’t stress enough how many hotties there are that go to this thing every year.