Will the Flash Mob Community Recover?

At any other time in a country that protects peaceful assembly in its constitution, the news would sound both laughable and horrifying: “Flash mob arrested.” But Sun Valley County Jail in Los Angeles’ San Fernando region is now overrun with dancing delinquents who never imagined it would happen to them. “I never imagined this,” one said.

It began innocently enough, when restless college junior Sammie Johnson, driven back into his parents’ home by the COVID-19 pandemic, felt compelled to act. “The flash mob community was already hurting before this outbreak,” said Johnson. “Demand was on the decline. People who’d once proposed with an excellent flash mob had moved on to elaborate gender reveal parties. I mean, such is life, but what about posterity? Must future generations study the art of flash mobbing from old-ass YouTube clips shot on an iPhone 4?”

“That’s exactly what they must do,” said Officer Lance Howard, Chief of the Sun Valley Police Department. “Watching YouTube videos, either alone or with one to two other members of your household while maintaining a safe distance, is the perfect example of a COVID-safe activity. Flash mobbing is not.”

Johnson, a communications major who attended three in-person classes for a constitutional law elective course this spring before his campus shut down, believes banning citizens from flash mobbing is an unconstitutional act. “If the Founding Fathers, who thought of eveeeverything, thought slowing the spread of disease was a big deal, they would have explicitly said so in writing. Instead they bestowed upon us the inalienable right to congregate with religious fervor, and then got up and danced! You’ve seen Hamilton, right?”

While Johnson’s concern for idle flash mobsters has been a source of encouragement for many flash mob-centered Facebook groups across the country, it’s been a source of confusion for others. “We’re not sure where this passion for flash mobbing is coming from,” said Maryellen Johnson, Sammie’s mother. “I mean, he has always enjoyed doing activities in groups. Like having a party at a restaurant or attending a concert, or even going to church sometimes. We all enjoy those things. But for now, I feel okay with Zoom and takeout. It’s not too much to ask, if it means saving lives.”

After overhearing our interview with Maryellen from the hallway, Sammie told his mother to “suck it,” then, like a college student with no obvious way forward in life, decided to raise hell. “I’m suing the city of Los Angeles!” he said, then ran into the street with a step-ball-change, step-ball-change, pivot turn, middle finger. With the commitment of a Broadway professional, Johnson shuffled all the way to Los Angeles Small Claims Court.

Two months after Sammie launched his legal battle versus a city attorney who’d handily won previous suits against the likes of Wells Fargo and the Weather Channel App, things were going surprisingly well for him. A public defender, Jen Delgato, who revealed she was adopted using a flash mob at LAX, was assigned to Johnson’s case and was representing it with vengeance. She also introduced Sammie to Los Angeles’ underground flash mob scene via a well-written email blast, which then led Sammie to organize his own viral mob moment.

“Call me old fashioned, but I just can’t with TikTok. Does that mean I should be excluded from the ‘Dreams’ challenge? Ageism, if you thought yes! I could sue you for that. And whatever, I’m doing it with my flash mob.”

As the mob rehearsed their choreography remotely, Delgato made progress in court. Johnson was victorious against the city when a judge denied Los Angeles County’s preemptive attempt to ban flash mobs. The court advised that all state and county health orders prohibiting large gatherings should still be followed to prevent further illness and death, but they could not in good faith rule flash mobs illegal. “Suck it!” said Johnson. And this time, he really meant it.

When the flashing day finally arrived, Johnson feared his highly publicized mob would come as a surprise to…no one. “As I’ve learned from my pandemic YouTube studies, flash mobs require surprise to be awesome. It’s all about the passersby not expecting anything, and then getting something. So I’m going to give them that something.”

On Thursday, October 22 at 3pm in the Sun Valley Shopping Center, 7,000 maskless Californians gathered to line dance to an edited version of Fleetwood Mac’s “Dreams” cut in accordance with YouTube’s music copyright rules and restrictions, per Delgato’s legal advice. A few seconds into the routine, Johnson opened fire on a variety of stuffed animals in the mall’s Build-A-Bear store. “I saved the first amendment, now I’m saving the second. You have the right to these arms, bears!” said Johnson, as he was handcuffed.

All complicit flash mobsters were escorted to Sun Valley County Jail, where many await bail. “If I could do it all over again, I’d do it pretty much the same,” said one, “Only this time, I’d wear a mask and stay six feet away from everybody. I just tested positive for COVID. It’s a major bummer. I do wonder what kind of implications all this will have for the flash mob community long term.”

As of publication, 376 of Johnson’s volunteer dancers have tested positive for the coronavirus, making his flash mob a much more viral moment than he expected.