The sky above Aldwych may have been almost cloudless, but there were a suspicious number of people carrying umbrellas walking the streets in the area earlier this evening. This was the second (official) London flash mob, or at least it was one of them. The organisers had been careful to split us up into at least two different mobs according to starsign and dispersed us around the Embankment. I was in the smaller group, instructed to turn up with an umbrella at one of four pubs off Aldwych by 6:10pm, precisely.
The bar staff in the George IV pub were overwhelmed by brolly-carrying punters. Us potential mobsters stood around waiting to get served, gulped down our drinks and waited for further instructions. At 6:10pm precisely one of the organisers entered the pub and handed out the tiny flyers to everyone carrying an umbrella. On one side, the words to Gene Kelly's classic Singing in the Rain. On the other side was our mission statement. We were to take our umbrellas to the public courtyard of Somerset House by 6:25pm precisely, text someone asking them to ring us at 6:30pm precisely, and click our fingers every (click) time anyone (click) used the letter Y (click).
If you've ever been to Somerset House before (and I have) you'll know that the centre of the courtyard contains 55 water jets which spring from the flagstones. On a hot summer's day it's a damp four year-old's paradise. It's also a lot of fun for a bunch of over 100 twenty-and thirty-somethings armed with umbrellas. At 6:25pm the mobsters from each of the four Aldwych pubs arrived right on time and strode into the middle of the fountains, brollies raised. Just as happened at the last flash mob, everyone suddenly looked at each other as if to say "Are we really doing this? Excellent!" And then we started acting like damp four year-olds.
It soon became apparent that the organisers had omitted one crucial piece of information from their instructions. They hadn't told us what to do when while we were standing in the middle of the fountains. Perhaps it was supposed to be obvious that we should dance round the fountains like famous Hollywood movie stars, but they'd forgotten to tell us that. Eventually one group was brave enough to start singing Singing in the Rain and everyone joined in, but they skipped a chunk of the first verse which sort of threw the rest of us partway through. It still sounded good though.
A number of the mobsters were really enjoying splashing in the water, running through the fountains and getting their suits wet. As the jets shot up into the air sometimes they caught the underside of an umbrella and water shot out across the crowd. Some wished they'd not brought their laptops, videophones and digital cameras with them. Ten minutes we stood there, getting slowly wetter, until at 6:35pm precisely it was time to leave. As we vanished out into the Strand the three security guards stood and watched the departing crowds, scratching their heads and mulling over what it was they might just have witnessed.
There was one last finale, a "Bonus Mob", as our group were then directed to pop up onto nearby Waterloo Bridge and face upstream. There in the distance across the Thames was tonight's other flash mob, spread out across the new Hungerford pedestrian bridge, doing goodness knows what. (Ahh, report here, photos here) We waved. They may have waved back, it was hard to tell. And then, trainers still squelching, it was time for everyone to disperse.
I think Flash Mob ##2 worked rather better than Flash Mob ##1 a fortnight ago, not least because we were in a public place and not apparently hounded by the press. Perhaps the organisers should give up on their fixation with mobile phones and letters of the alphabet, because I have yet to see those ideas work in practice. Just standing in the middle of a fountain with an umbrella was quite surreal enough for most participants. And the chances of there being a successful Flash Mob ##3? Odds on, I reckon.
If you've ever been to Somerset House before (and I have) you'll know that the centre of the courtyard contains 55 water jets which spring from the flagstones. On a hot summer's day it's a damp four year-old's paradise. It's also a lot of fun for a bunch of over 100 twenty-and thirty-somethings armed with umbrellas. At 6:25pm the mobsters from each of the four Aldwych pubs arrived right on time and strode into the middle of the fountains, brollies raised. Just as happened at the last flash mob, everyone suddenly looked at each other as if to say "Are we really doing this? Excellent!" And then we started acting like damp four year-olds.
