“Okay, yeah. We’ll meet by the arch. If I can get to the arch…” Christen said as I exited the Union Square N train. It was a weekend, so of course the trains were slow and of course they were unexpectedly running express. This meant I’d had to get off at a stop about 10 blocks up from my final destination.
“Just get here SOON!” she said.
“I’m trying! I’m running!” I screamed back to her as I took off down University.
And oh was I running.
Through the foot traffic I sprinted, with my shoes unhappily biting the backs of unprotected heels. A purse was slapping my left leg while a fluffy pillow flopped to-and-fro on the right, occasionally brushing a passerby who dared to walk too close. I was, at my best, slightly apologetic.
Because I was trying to make it to a city-wide pillow fight.
All of Washington Square Park was overrun by pillow whapping students, adults, and the occasional elderly couple. Though feather stuffing had been forbidden, it looked as though a hundred birds were flying above the large cotton-induced skirmish. (And a little known fact about feathers: not entirely enjoyable to breathe in.)
But conquer this battle we did!
There might have even been a few warrior screams as we dove into combat. After all, not every pillow would make it out alive.
Above is my version of National Pillow Fight Day, taken with an iPhone in the heat of battle. Unfortunately my computer isn't letting me upload the HD file, so below is a far better filmed and edited clip. Do enjoy - and then join us next year.