The plan was simple enough. Quoc Doan and Aaron Sanchez, the two guys from Miami Ad School pictured below, wanted to create some bubble madness on BART.
They would film the spectacle and the widespread mirth it inspired among the rush-hour commuters for their video storytelling class at their oddly named San Francisco school.
They had some major expectations for this event on the invite posted online: "Massive (and I mean MASSIVE) bubble blowing session on a BART trip through the city. Even better, it's when people are getting off work and ready for a big three-day weekend. Ya baby. Let's put smiles on faces."
The guys had done some test runs throughout the week, figuring out the best BART to catch commuter traffic. Other classmates would be stationed at various stops throughout the city to film the bubble action when the train pulled up. As Quoc saw it, there should be so many bubbles on the train, that when the doors open it would recall the aftermath of putting dish soap in the washing machine: "Imagine a train pulling up and just bubbles coming out," he mused in his fedora with a paper reading "Director" stapled to the side.
They even did some direct recruiting at the place where you're guaranteed to find some (unemployed) people lounging around with nothing better to do at 4 p.m. on a Thursday afternoon -- Dolores Park. The first 40 people there would get free bubbles.
The first cracks on the lads' facade were revealed when only about 10 people not associated with the school showed. But, no matter, once at the 24th Street BART platform, expectations were high, and these girls warmed up their bubble-blowing skills for the ride ahead of them.
Quoc went on to explain that the purpose of a Flash Mob is to leave no trace behind. He said the pillow fight earlier this year at Embarcadero was a failure in that sense since it left heaps of feathers that had to be cleaned up (by the city -- and not for free). He explained that bubbles, on the other hand, leave no trace behind but people's smiles.
Well, that and spilled bubble fluid puddles on the BART platform just beneath the steps commuters routinely hurl themselves down in pursuit of a train. BART spokesman Linton Johnson says if someone slips and splits their head open because there are soapy bubbles on the platform station, then guess who has to pay for the lawsuit -- BART, using your tax dollars. Johnson felt the need to add: "I hate to burst anyone's bubble."The bubble-makers were undaunted in their mission of merriment despite the growing number of unamused commuters on the car. In particular, the maniac with the bubble gun could not be stopped.
Despite the seeming failure of their mission to create smiles and unbridled joy on BART, the bubble-blowers seemed to be pretty content with themselves as they disembarked at Embarcadero. These optimists' bubble just couldn't be burst.
