Playing With Someone’s Balls
The punny titles just write themselves, don’t they? And while we bow to no one in our capacity for innuendo and juvenile humor, this time we’ll let it go.
What’s the story behind these rather unusual pictures? Simple. We heard that the downtown ad agency Pearlfisher had installed a giant ball pit in its reception area and invited members of the public to come and enjoy themselves in it. It’s meant as some sort of paean to childishness and playfulness and free-spiritedness, three things we like to like to think we embody. So we called them up and asked if perhaps they’d let us commandeer the space some afternoon and disport ourselves like the overgrown children we are. They said yes, and a subway ride later it was us and 80,000 white plastic balls in a battle royal.
The experience was exhilarating, though perhaps more physically taxing than we expected. (Ever sink beneath a truckload of plastic spheres and find yourself unable to get up again? Fortunately some of our members are in peak physical condition and could fish the rest of us out.)
There were selfies to take and ball fights to have…
…juggling to practice and pretend spa treatments to enact…
…swimming metaphors to explore and Chuck E. Cheese memories to blissfully expunge.
No, we didn’t read any books in there; we didn’t even discuss any. But by god, we had fun. Hats off (bras, too) to the cool, supportive staffers who let us come and were super-nice to us while we were there. To the handful of ad execs in the back trying to get some actual work done while we frolicked noisily in their entrance after hours, our apologies. But tell the world it’s okay to come over and play with your balls, you’ve got to expect some people to take you up on it.
Ah, smutty puns, we can’t resist you after all!
Perhaps for our next outing we’ll have to go to the Jewelry District and try on some pearl necklaces.
In the meantime: Balls.
Enjoy ’em. We did.