 "Photo: Adam Templeton")
Editor's Note: With the growing popularity of the Lincoln Underground Flash Mob, a Daily Nebraskan reporter went to the most recent gathering. This is what he found.
It's 12:15 p.m. on a Tuesday. The temperature is pushing 95, and I'm sitting underneath the "Old Glory" sculpture in front of the College of Business Administration at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln with seven people, all clothed in black from head-to-toe, despite the sweltering heat.
These diehard individuals are members of the Lincoln Underground Flash Mob.
A flash mob is more or less what it sounds like. A mob of people show up someplace in a flash, do something unusual and then fall back into the woodwork.
On June 22, the Lincoln Underground Flash Mob took to the Westfield Gateway Mall for an event deemed "The Meeting of the Bills."
Once the mob amassed at the food court, the mob members began greeting each other, shaking hands, exchanging hugs and acting thrilled to have run into their dear friend Bill. Of course, everyone pretended to be named Bill.
After a few minutes of raucous "hellos" and "how have you beens," the Bills each pulled out a cell phone and walked off, leaving the mall plaza vacant. A few bewildered shoppers began to clap, unsure of what to think.
Today's event, "The Hungry Crowd" is a tad more sinister.
A victim, clad in white, wanders around in front of the Nebraska Union until she is assaulted by a wave of people in black clothing who will pretend to devour her.
"We're supposed to have at least 35 people today," said Aaron Brindell, a psychology, philosophy and sociology major at UNL who organized the mob. "But if we want to get really into it, then 50's the magic number."
Brindell started a group on Facebook to try and spread the word about the mob's antics. He hopes that he'll eventually be able to assemble a core group of around 50 to participate in regular flash mob events.
A trio of girls walk up the path toward the sculpture where we're sitting. The girls are dressed like they're heading to a funeral. They're with us.
"I had this other idea," Brindell said, making conversation as we wait for more mob members to show up. "Everyone gets a cardboard box, draws a car on the side, and puts it on. We go down to say, SouthPointe, and have someone wave a checkered flag. Then all these people looking like cars race around the parking lot for a lap."
The victim arrives. She is Lindsay Burford, a doctoral major. She's wearing more white then a bride on her wedding day. And she's ready to be eaten.
"I just love the shock from everyone else, from the audience," Burford said. "I like to stir things up. I like that kind of effect"
It's almost 12:30. Burford is supposed to get into position in 15 minutes. At the moment, the mob that's supposed to envelope her is looking rather sparse.
More and more members start to amass underneath "Old Glory." Members of "the Hungry Crowd" are easy to pick out. Black clothing, although fashionable, has no place on a day this hot.
There are 12 people are sitting with me underneath the sculpture now. One of them is sporting the garb of a priest. We must look like a cult. Passersby certainly seem to think so.
"Don't drink the Kool Aid!" someone yells as they stroll past "Old Glory."
But that doesn't deter the flash mob.
"We should really just post a sign that says 'No, we don't have guns,'" jokes one of the members.
Finally, 12:45 rolls around. "The Hungry Crowd" is as a complete as its ever going to be. The final count: 19 ravenous members dressed in black, one victim wearing white and one Welsh corgi puppy.
Everyone is given a black Zorro mask to complete their attire. The members are dressed.
Burford runs to get into place. Brindell goes over the plan one more time.
The wall of black will crash into Burford from one side then spread out and envelope her. Once they have her surrounded her, they'll close in for the kill.
The mob heads out, nearly 20 people in matching black walking silently with resolution toward their destination.
Burford is out in front of the Nebraska Union, screaming into her cell phone, drawing as much attention to herself as possible.
The mob circles her as planned. But something has changed.
Someone yells "Drop!" and the entire circle, save for the person who shouted, falls to one knee. The man still standing is Burford's boyfriend, Josh Pence of Lincoln. There, in the middle of the ring of black, he asks her to marry him.
The couple embraces as she says yes, and the remainder of the mob runs off, disappearing as if it were never there at all.
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