The Truth

Hares: The Body

Start: 96^th Street and Central Park West

On-In: Bar East

Punk Ass Bitch (Scribe): Offensive Discharge

 “Empty Chairs at empty tables” — “Signs, signs, everywhere signs”

The Pre-Lube at the Dive Bar, an old hash favorite, was deserted!   One visitor sat alone at a table, desperately hoping his “ECH3” cap might arouse at least suspicion, if not friendly banter and camaraderie, from the few passers-by.  Welcome to the NYCH3 “Clown WFM”!  Nice chatting with you.  Sometime around 7, the rest of the motley Pre-Lube crew showed up (take a bow, you sots).  2 beers each and off we went to the start.

‘T was brillig, and the slithy toves  Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;

All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe.

Now, I never understood what this meant, but it seems to perfectly describe the start of the January Full Moon Hash.  “brillig” -> “brrrr” -> “frigidly cold”; “gyre and gimble” -> “twist and shout” -> “froze their butts off”;  “wabe” -> “wind” (that was easy!); and can you think of better descriptions of Hares and Hashers than “borogroves” and “slithy toves”? (I leave the last line up to you to decode).  Lewis Carroll was definitely a Hasher!

The pack had long left by the time the lubed-up drunkards arrived.  Doffing our outergear, donning our flashlights, we pursued them with great gusto and vigor. 

Misled by fancy’s meteor ray, By passion driven;
But yet the light that led astray Was light from heaven.

Ahhh, a lovely, twisty path through the park on a frigid night.  What could be better?  How about finding the trail?  Easy enough… turn on our lights!  Our passion tonight (as every other night):  Beer!  With a promised Hot Cocoa stop along the way.  Dashing into the Ramble’s edge, we crossed a bridge, only to spot several pinpoints of light coming toward us on the other side of the stream.  Who are they?  Are they lost?  Doubling back to investigate ended up putting us at the front of the pack!  Yippee!!

Passing the snow-covered North Meadow (how many days does it take 3 snow machines to coat that small field anyway?), we exited the park at Engineer’s Gate – just in time to catch Kyle & Kim entering with the Cocoa.  And we drink.  And it was good.  Yummmm….  Off again, we ventured far East until almost no road was left to run along.  At 1^st Ave (I believe it was 1^st…. could have been 2^nd… Editor???), we jotted South for a block or 2 and ON-IN at Eva’s favorite, formally “the last smoking bar in NYC”, pub.  Anyone remember the name?  Oh well, who really pays attention to names.  Location, location, location.

Let the whipped cream fights begin!  Yes, like the children we are, many hashers grabbed for the leftover whipped cream as soon as Kim showed up.  Who knew Redi-Whip had so many uses: dessert topping, hair gel, snowball, and of course WhipIts!  A good night was definitely in the cards. 

All were in within a few minutes of one another, so Down Downs quickly commenced.  The Hares: Dave “the ‘Snow’ Body” Croft & Tiger’s “Frozen” Woody.  Virgins & Visitors: the above-mentioned Clown Who Fucks Moose, Barbara, and Sideshow Bob (who may have just been trying to scam another beer…)  Wankers: Dave “Too” Long & Sideshow Bob for biblically sharing a roommate.  Kyle: testing the Nipple Rings for Janet?  Rich for being Lost & Scared in NYC.  Cree was asked to perform a “Good Weather” dance to stop the weather curse of the Flashlight Hash — and then was requested to drink from his brand-new, tag-still-on sneakers!  Oh, and Eva came in DFL.

When the candles are out all women are fair.

Pizza was served, beer flowed, conversation was easy.  Sadly, I couldn’t stay long into the night, so I leave it up to your memories to conclude if the above quote was true.  Judging from past experience, you all should be ashamed of yourselves…. or proud… whatever…

On Out!