GGFM # 154

The Truth

I have no idea where it came from but it was big, black, and carried with it huge amounts of “kittens and puppies” more commonly referred to as rain.  Fine “cats and dogs”.  This massive aerial puffball pounded the city for twenty minutes. Ending seconds before 7pm , it eradicated every hash mark the hares chalked out before the Chalk Doom Cloud made its appearance.

Meanwhile at the starting point off the GGFM on the corner of 49th Street and 3rd, it was as if all the Hashers had died and gone to see Allah in the Promised Land, because there were virgins all over the place.  Only a few of the die-hard hashers showed up for this Fourth of July weekend run.  When I say die-hard hashers I really mean losers who had nowhere else to go during this holiday weekend. However this excludes Fairy Queen because he rocks.

Dr. Steve with a big fashion fopa showed up in red socks with little emblems of a foot with wings on it. How cute Dr. Steve your socks represent that you are runner, as if the Hashers couldn’t figure that

out from your sneakers and the rest of your sports attire.  Congratulations Dr. Steve, we haven’t even started the run and you’ve already made it on the Down Down list.

As the Hashers prepared for the run, stretching and whining about how muggy it was, (did I mention how muggy it was?  It was so muggy.) The hare, Polish Manslave, conferred with Scot, the JM and deemed him Ad Hoc hare.  Scot grabbed chalk and was off setting a live trail. A few minutes later the rest of the Hashers were off starting strong with a great pace. “Who has chalk?” said one hasher. “Someone has it” answered another. “Ah forget about it, there is always someone who has chalk.”  As we made our way through the trail we began to realize Manhattan was not as flat as we thought it was. Damn the east side has hills, practically mini mountains.  Nearing the FDR, we passed that pussy of an organization we gave the finger to a year ago, the United Nations.  Hashers ran past it hopping to get a glimpse of Hans Bliz, or was that just me?  We got to the FDR walkway only to run a long ass distance uptown. But I guess we can’t complain. We did have the waterfront view.  But it was so muggy out, and we had to run up and down all of those hills.  We made our way to a bridge to find a check mark, crossed the bridge to find another check mark, then there was another check mark, and another. Arrows ceased to exist. Checks dominated the trail.  The moment we knew we were on the trail there was another check.

“Does anyone have chalk?”

“I thought you had chalk.”

Pack mentality started to set in. We forgot to look for markings and began to rely on other people to get us to our destination. Foolishly the ones we followed were virgins. We were like Lemmings running to our demise. We ran straight into a dead end. Confused, we looked at each other and someone asked “did anyone see a marker?”

“I thought you were on.”

“Well I thought you were on.”

“Oh crap.”

“It’s muggy out!”

“Does anyone have chalk?”

“I thought you had chalk!”

“Oh crap.”

“Its muggy out!”

“Did you happen to see Hanz Bliz when we ran past the U.N.?”

Making our way back onto the trail we saw the “Beer Near” marker and our energy came back, giving strength to our rubbery legs and producing an unquenchable thirst for beer.  We ran fast and long for five blocks, slowed down after the seventh, and when we came to the conclusion that the Beer Near marker was a hoax after finding yet another check, we all converted to a casual walk.  Now we were lazy Lemmings.

“Where the hell is the beer?”

“Its muggy out!”

“Does anyone have chalk?”

“Doesn’t Hanz Bliz remind you of Henry Kissinger?”

Finally, miles away from the Beer Near marker we reached our destination of the ON IN.  Now I have been in some dive bars with the hashers but none compete to Pat O’Brian’s on 88th and 3rd.  As we

entered there was a sign on the door that read “Wet T-Shirt Contest at Midnight”, and when we crammed into the back room there were big planks of wood leaning against the wall. Why have random wood at a bar? What purpose did this wood serve? After the Circle, time would tell.

We gathered up for the Circle, ready to give Down Downs.   Down Downs were given to the Hare, Polish Manslave for the erased trail. Naturally the virgins and visitors got Down Downs. John got a down down for the preemptive Beer Near marker. He deserved that one. The visitors who were actual Seamen on the trail sang a little diddly of their own a reprisal of the famous “If you’re happy and you know it…show us your tits”.

Then there was Dr. Steve, who got a down down not only for his socks, but for trying to use his medical expertise to help a homeless man who was playing dead. You can’t cure an Old English 40’s hangover, Dr. Steve.  Then there was the completely random abuse of power.  There was a motion from the floor from Patrick who insisted that the great and legendary Fairy Queen do a down down for an infraction that happened weeks before and had no relevance to the run. It was an abuse of power and is the reason why we have J.M.s, The JM chimed in and ruled Patrick was just jealous of Fairy Queen’s godly characteristics and he should be a man and chug a beer. Well it went something like that. Don’t hate the playa, hate the game.

Dinner of pizza along with pasta salad with two types of dressing was served.  Then, the pizza boxes were cleared out of the way and the boards of wood were thrown down on the table.  A shot girl with jello and whip cream came from nowhere, and jocks poured in with pitchers and ping-pong balls.  Hashers were dazed while the bar converted itself into a Beer Pong Tournament.  And that is why this bar deserves the title of “dive”.

On out.