Attack of the Killer Tomatoes

Tomatocalypse

Tomatogeddon

Words I used to describe this event before attending, but how do you prepare for something like this? What exactly am I talking about?

Well, on Saturday I attended the Portland chapter of the Tomato Battle. When I first heard about this, through some web discount site or other, I knew it was something I had to participate in. Looking at the pictures on the site, I was guessing this would just be an epic food fight. Oh how naïve...
It's not until you arrive on site and see the mountains of tomatoes that it starts to sink in. How did they get here? Well, all those fruits and veggies you buy from the store can only sit on a shelf, at the warehouse, or in a crate for so long before biology starts to get out of hand. So they get donated. Then, splat, there they are,unceremoniously dumped from a truck. And these puppies are RIPE. Shortly after the mountain makes an impression, the scent makes a more lasting one. It was rather warm this weekend, and I'd swear these things were fermenting right there in the parking lot.

There's some pre-action live music and costume contesting (I didn't dress fancy, didn't even really cross my mind). Most dressed to be silly, some went with a tomato theme, such as a group of "softball players" with their jersey's marked with the names of various species of tomato. Some took a historical spin and played off the Roma. But the most inspired were the Bloody Mary ladies, whipping folks with celery.

But then came the main event. Hundreds of us were funneled into the tomato cage, and told not to start throwing until everyone was in. I nabbed a spot next to the largest mountain (center in the photo above) and grabbed a couple of these not quite rotten fruits, as others were doing the same. I was only slightly disgusted by the thin white coating. Mold? Fungus? It wouldn't matter shortly. Then a couple tomatoes flew through the air. And like any classic food fight, it snowballed into chaos from there.

I hadn't really considered what this was going to be like. I discussed it with a fellow combatant as we marched in, who mentioned he wished he'd brought a cup. Not for drinking, but for protection. Sure, I said, this will probably be a little on the rough side, a bit like being hit by a water balloon. Yeah, but not one of those overfull, almost pops just throwing it kind. But one of those barely filled, have to really chuck it to break it kind. And they are full of jell-o instead of water. My only protection was sunglasses, which is no protection at all. Because when this battle gets going, you are covered, head to foot, every square inch, in ketchup.

There were a number of greater hazards I had no concept of, going in. One, red tomatoes = weird water balloons, green tomatoes = rocks. Those green suckers were numerous and painful, plus they didn't break on contact. Two, sunglasses + tomato paste = blind. But I found that wiping the glasses off with my tomato soaked shirt was actually somewhat effective. Goggles are the way to go really. Three, ketchup is slippery. Especially when you're standing in 4 inches of it.

It took no time at all for most of the tomatoes to be nothing but mush on the ground that you would just scoop up and throw indiscriminately around. I'd shout "Nothing personal, but take that!" and lob a handful behind me. On more than one occasion I misjudged the depth of the juice and nearly scraped the nails of my fingers on the asphalt beneath.

Once there is nothing left but a mash of jelly, your relationship to it changes. You start treating it like sand or snow. I made a tomato angel pretty early on. Many people laid down to get buried in it. The next thing you know others are sliding on their bellies like penguins across the ice. Of sliding into home, hoping the umpire calls "safe".

Truly, it's the most disgusting thing I've ever done. It smelled worse than you are imagining. It resembled what the aftermath of Hannibal's Battle of Cannae must have looked like: ankle deep in red slaughter. Oh, and I haven't even mentioned the taste of it, because yes, it will get in your mouth. Sweet and Sour! And it stings the eyes. But I continually wondered what it was doing for my skin. The vitamins! And what a conditioner! Such body and hold!

Sometimes you would be hit unintentionally and some would say "sorry". I could only respond with "I signed a waiver, and that means you can't tell me you're sorry!" Such was the camaraderie. And the sensuality. Something about getting covered in food really brings out a certain kind of animal with people. That, or the fact that there were so many of us that you are constantly rubbing against someone else, and things sure were slippery.

And as I hosed myself off after nearly two hours of battle, in cold water and a setting sun, I could only think that I'd love to do this again next year.