It's not political, ideological or cultural, but San Francisco officials say they are seriously considering cracking down on one of the city's most popular events in the growing "flash mob" phenomenon.
This year's Valentine's Day pillow fight was, quite simply, a mess. Officials, only slightly amused, say the episode left the city holding the bag - or empty pillow case - with thousands of dollars in damage and cleanup costs due to mounds of wet, sticky feathers.
The promoters of the counterculture event, now in its fourth year, must take responsibility for future happenings or "otherwise we are going to have to find a way to shut it down," said Lisa Seitz Gruwell of the Recreation and Park Department.
San Francisco's pillow fight is part of an international fad, partly anarchistic, partly absurdist, in which a mob of participants suddenly materializes at a public place, engages in odd behavior and then disperses.
The events range from zombie marches to dances and pie fights, including a shaving-cream-on-paper-plate pie fight staged late Thursday afternoon at the cable car turnaround at Powell and Market streets.
They are organized via telephone text messages, Web sites like Laughingsquid.com and eatbrains.com, and just old-fashioned word-of-mouth. They often have no identified leaders or sponsors.
A Web advertisement for this year's pillow fight at Justin Herman Plaza said in part, "Rules: Tell Everyone you know. ... Arrive with pillow hidden in bag. ... Practice responsible fun and help clean up. ..."
It was the city's biggest and longest flash mob pillow fight yet: It drew an estimated 1,500 to 3,000 people and went on from about 6 p.m. until past midnight, according to officials.
As the crowd pounded each other with pillows, the cases split, releasing large volumes of feathers that the wind quickly spread.
And it was wet. Intermittent rain plastered the feathers to everything they touched, forming a gray, feathery sludge that lined the lawn, the gutter, cars and buildings.
The soggy stuff clogged drains in nearby Four Embarcadero Center, flooding the Osha Thai Restaurant, said Norm Dito, a manager with Boston Properties, which owns the center. He estimated his firm's cleanup costs at more than $10,000.
Feathers also filled the Vaillancourt Fountain and threatened to jam and burn out its pumps. Workers had to drain the cubist fountain's 12,000 gallons of water - it had only recently been filled - clean it out and refill it, said Dito.
The city had to dispatch two engineers to check the fountain along with a five-person crew that filled three pick-up trucks with feathers, all at a cost of more than $2,213, said Dennis Kern, director of operations for the Recreation and Park Department.
"It was quite a mess, much more than we have experienced in previous years," said Mohammed Nuru, deputy director of the Department of Public Works. "Everywhere was feathers."
DPW assigned three extra cleanup shifts - a total of 69 employees and an extra street sweeper truck - costing about $19,000, Nuru said.
"It was really hard raking through the grass trying to get all those little feathers up," he said.
Kern said officials want the organizers of such events to follow standard procedure: apply for a permit, pay a use fee (at least $1,750 for the plaza) and supply security, portable toilets and cleanup crews.
But he acknowledged that such conformance would be contrary to the flash mob's decidedly decentralized, anti-bureaucratic principles. Kern said Rec and Park does not even know how to contact the pillow fight's anonymous organizers.
A series of e-mail and phone inquiries from The Chronicle seeking comment from pillow fight organizers went unanswered.
However, one of the pie fight organizers, who gave his name as Herbie Hatman, seemed unfazed by the concern. Wearing a bowler hat and tuxedo and covered in shaving cream at Thursday's event, he shrugged at the suggested rules.
"That seems like a natural response from the city," he said.
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