NYCH3 #1240 / Brooklyn #395
BH3 Does Queens
Saturday November 17, 2007
Hares: Smashmouth, The Saint, and FMIG
Start: 46th St on the 7 Train
On-Ins: Multiple, pre-crawl circle at Shannon’s Pot
Scribe: Empress Norma
“Abandon all hope ye who enter here.” (that Dante guy really knew his stuff) Yup, it’s going to be one of those write-ups. Because even though it’s only been three weeks, I really don’t remember anything about this hash. Well, I do remember it was cold. And I remember we were in Queens. And I remember (no really, I do remember) we pub crawled after r*nning a mildly interesting trail, more interesting if you’re really into the graveside-industrial look, not so interesting if a desolated and smelly environment is really not your thing. I also remember that between bars FMIG asked me to do this write-up and having a good buzz going I agreed, proving once again that anybody can rashly promise to do foolish things at least once during their lifetime. After all, isn’t this why we hash? But I jump ahead. Back to the beginning.
It was a cold and blustery day. No wait, that’s today. It was a cold, damp and bleak Saturday afternoon. Ahh, that’s more appropriate. After all, what can be colder than a grey December day-besides a grey January, February or March afternoon-or bleaker than waiting under the 46th St. station of the 7 train in Woodside, Queens in what passed as an urban parking lot knowing that the trail was going to END in Queens? With the Brooklyn hash no longer satisfied with r*nning in Brooklyn anymore (it’s like cheating on your partner while being in a long-term relationship where you’re comfortable but nothing exciting is happening so you decide one day to sample the goods elsewhere but knowing deep in your heart that someday you will go back to where you really belong), Queens offered a new playground for Brooklyn to explore. And what better way to explore then to bring the Queens committee out from pasture and trot them around one more time in collaboration with the Brooklyn committee?
Interestingly enough, a good number of those showing up for this trail came from Manhattan and really don’t understand that traveling to another borough does not equate bringing along a passport and getting a tetanus shot while stocking up on the malaria pills and grabbing the 110-volt adapter for the hairdryer, the electric toothbrush, the shaver and the emergency hot curler set. Of course, the MTA did absolutely nothing to alleviate these misconceptions because the 7 train was not running into Manhattan that day. Nor did it allow an E/V transfer in Court Square – which could have somewhat helped the Brooklynites coming in who are usually condemned to take the G into North Brooklyn and Queens – because the 7 was departing from Queensboro Plaza. So multiple transfers and confusion later a smallish (about 15 or so) group of us stood around waiting until the last possible second to take our jackets off while the leaves swirled around us and DBB went through the motions of separating out visitors and virgins (of which there were none, well sort of, but more on that later) before informing us that this hash was the ultimate Queens tour sans charter bus because we would see shopping districts (traffic-filled streets with lots of noise), quaint residential areas (2-family attached homes with broken sidewalks), a red-light district (truck stops), many peaceful and restful areas (cemeteries) and other such delights that only an urban environment can provide. Hmmm.
But, it was a quite pleasant hash overall with a chicken/eagle option offered right at the beginning for those who wanted to get started on the pub crawl on-in as soon as possible, and this would have happened if it hadn’t been for the last check on the bridge that separates Greenpoint from Long Island City (and which I was sooo excited about for a brief moment because I thought I would have such an easy trip home since I live south of Greenpoint) which was the meeting point for chickeners and eaglers and caused us to mill around for a while before picking up trail again and continuing on for another mile or so as one long, drawn-out group.
Highlights of the trail? The cute little homes in Woodside. The view of Manhattan by Astoria Boulevard. The really, really, really, really long stretch past some cemetery in Sunnyside. The quite solitude of a warehouse corridor under a steel bridge arched waaaay overhead. The industrial wasteland of Long Island City. Oh, and the most eager virgin ever…well, she’s not really a virgin but she hadn’t been around for quite a long time and heck if Madonna can work the born-again virgin angle, why can’t Christie? Anyway, she was very excited about, well, everything. Especially when she found a mark after the first check (arms windmilling, yelping excitedly, “look, right here, a mark! Look!” And the series of leaps along with more arms flying up in the air ala Twyla Tharp while in the middle of a cemetery, which I guess could be appropriate behavior if you’re thinking “hey, you’re dead and I’m not, this is GREAT!!”)
We finally arrived at the on-in at Shannon’s Pot tucked under subway tracks where we forked over a meager $2 for down-down hash cash. Now, here’s where it gets really tricky. I mean, come on. Remember the circle? Holy shitskies Batman, I barely remember the trail, yet somehow I’m expected to remember the circle? And FMIG’s notes are sketchy at best (insert snide comment here). As best as can be recollected, the following down-downs were given:
· Our long-winded, long-in-the-tooth Hare DBB for a Queens-type non-descript trail
· For being on the Queens committee: Crofty, DBB, The Saint, Laird, some other old farts
· Christie, the aforementioned excitedly eager born-again virgin for antics on trail
· The Saint for sexist remarks of which I haven’t a clue what made them so sexist but being The Saint, I’m sure we’ll hear them again at some point
· Mets Fans- as if they haven’t suffered enough (yeah, I know, but at this point even the Joint Masters were losing interest in the circle)
· AOTW: Ashley and DBB – The former for finishing DFL and walking into The Shannon Pot and saying to the latter “You Fucking Asshole…”and the latter for just being an asshole
· Ashley again for some bimbo nonsense
And then the drinking and crawling began, all conveniently located in Long Island City. Off we went to The Creek and Cave which was really the most pleasant of all the spots, being located in a cozy, stone-walled basement with lots of candles and best of all it was toasty-warm, always a bonus in my cold-blooded book. Too soon we were off again to Dominiks Hoek where a few of the less-hardy types decided it was time for some food and this is where we began to separate. Because of course, the point of a pub crawl is to keep moving so we then trudged over to Cassino, some old-man bar which hands-down had my favorite bartender, a motherly looking lady (that is, if you’re mother wore super-short platinum spiky hair, really thick eyeliner, tons of studs in her ears, and had a voice that could cut glass from all the cigarettes-Virginia Slims no doubt-she had been smoking since was 10) who bustled around cheerfully pouring us drinks and such. We finally ended at my favorite LIC bar called, well, LIC Bar, which is why I probably like it because you can still remember it’s name even after visiting 4 bars prior to stepping in their door. Anyway, after more drinks I then chose to stumble home using that beloved G train of ours, which meant I got to bed waaay too late. As one should on a Saturday night. On-out.