Brooklyn Hash #696
Start: Greenpoint Avenue stop on the G train
On In: R Bar
Scribe: Rack N’Roll Her
No matter how many years you’ve been hashing, it is hard to feel confident about a trail that is set solo by a virgin hare. But I felt a little better after I ran into Skidmark on the way to the start, and he told me that he would help Torr with the bags, and all the details that make haring such a fun contribution to the hash. After the pack slowly gathered, Torr gave a brief chalk talk, and told us that he had set the trail that morning before work, and forgotten that it was garbage day, so there was a possibility that some marks might be under trash. Fantastic. We ran off, feeling unsure if we would be re-united with our possessions at the end.
After winding through a bit of Greenoint, the trail took us to the Pulaksi Bridge and into Queens. In Queens the checks disappeared, the pack thinned, and I ran the rest of the trail with Spits and Swallows and the virgin, and focused on looking for a place to pee. I had neglected to mention that I had needed to pee when I arrived at the start, and decided to ignore this need (sorry, but this is relevant). After passing the only commercial establishment, the shuttered Goldfinger “gentleman’s club”, ducking between parked cars on a desolate avenue seemed like a good option. If having to pee in public is ever a good option. Of course there was a man sitting in the car that was supposed to be my shield, but luckily I saw him first, and hadn’t dropped trough. This convinced me that I really could wait until the On In, so back to Greenpoint we ran and caught more of the pack. And caught them because the pack as usual, was lost in a park. Really, it takes less time to just run the perimeter of those little parks; one of these days we’ll get it.
It wasn’t much farther to the bar, and pints of Sly Fox and some tasteless German stuff (Kolsch – blech). Some conversations ensued about the very handsome Goldfinger club, which then turned to a song by Shirley Bassey song, somehow ended up at Stevie Nicks, cocaine (logical connection really), and then snuff. Snuff, circa the nineteenth century. And why wouldn’t we be talking about tobacco that people inhaled up their noses during Victorian times? We were then saved from ourselves by the start of circle. Eager for Beaver and Speedo gave out the down downs:
Hare – Torr
Virgins –Just Trish. (Hopefully she wasn’t too horrified by my attempt to pee on a street, and she’ll come back.)
Visitors – I think so? Sorry, no notes on this one
Rack n Roll Her – Almost peed on trail (I have abridged this, because what is in the JM’s notes are lies)
Just James – Did pee on trail, just around the corner from the On-in. (He probably didn’t care if anyone saw him. Pervert.) James had left so Cheeky drank for him.
CPA & Skidmark – In their civilian clothes and dressed too well for the hash
Turd Dimension – barked at a dog
Turd Dimension – Hit by a car en route to start
House of Ooze – has lived in NYC for about two months, and has hashed in Queens twice in one weekend. Also Skid mark & Longhorns shirt guy whose name no one remembers (JM’s notes here)
Spits Then Swallows – For asking if we were in NJ when we crossed the Pulaski Bridge.
Virgin Just Trish – For responding that it was the Holland Tunnel (She just moved to NYC, Spits has lived here for 12 years!)
Longhorns shirt – Technology on trail.
Circle ended, and it didn’t take long before the pack started raiding the multiple large bowls of NYC condoms that are a staple of the R Bar, and making juvenile jokes. Skidmark told an elephant sex story, blah blah blah, On Out.