NYCH3 # 1094

NYCH3 #1094

Date: February 27, 2005

Start:  28th & Park Ave

Hares:  Too Long, Flaccido Domingo, Booty Call

Beer check madness by Booty Call

On-in:  Spring Lounge, Spring & something Little Italy-like

Scribe:  Mean Jean

 

Long in the tooth

With the Bollocks in Scotland and the Harriettes in the Berkshires (burning down the house), a smallish pack assembled at Park & 28th. I ran into Jonathan the Taller in the subway and we pondered just why it was that the 6 let off on Lexington everywhere else but here. We found hares Too Long and Flaccido already there. Anger Management Steve was securing his hoodie. Long Island Dave was putting on his cat burglar mask. Jumping Jack Gash was showing off by running to the start from his house in fricking shorts no less. The Ste from Stewa was there and the ewa arrived shortly thereafter, also running to the start. The Chip-n-Dale brothers were there as was Kerry, Leo, his boyfriend (name?), and Dogfin (I ‘m going phonetic on you here) who was dolled out in what looked like the Norwegian Olympic committee’s issued uniform for their biathalon team.

 

The Long and winding road

In due course, the hares sent us packing. West I believe, for just a block before heading back east. The first devilish check appeared at First Ave and about 29th street. We checked in all directions and no luck and we went back again in all directions again. Have you ever noticed at points like this on trail, everyone pretty much comes to a stand still as if waiting for the chalk fairy to arrive and sprinkle pink dust over us to lead the way?  By the by, when I think of the Chalk Fairy, I picture Dave the Body Croft in his RDR blonde wig and tutu for some reason (time to get back into therapy perhaps?).   Finally JJG called on on to the north. We headed east to the river where we ran into another check but found the trail went south and the obligatory run through Waterside Plaza (up the escalator, through the plaza, down the ramp; what hare can resist?) ensued. We crossed the FDR and made our way through the projects then over to Stuyvesant Town. It’s about this time that it’s worth mentioning Virgin Chris who was “helping” with pack marks along the way. Trouble was his pack marks resembled more closely what I can only presume was the Chinese symbol for “get lost” than they did any pack mark I’ve ever seen. So a number of us followed his stray markings in various directions causing Kerry to ponder at one point, “how come I’m constantly behind Mean Jean.”  Well, Kerry, many ask; few discover!

 

Long time coming

After Stuy Town, a meander (not sure if you can call it a meander when it was one of Too Long’s magnificently straight line trail sections but I’ll use poetic license here ) through the East Village took us across Tompkins Square Park and into Doc Holidays where Booty Call met us with pitcher in hand. The beer check was greeted with glee as per usual. Booty Call looked as though he’d been having his glee straight up in a shot glass for a while waiting for our arrival but what else is new.

 

The Long and the short of it

We left the beer check—leaving Booty Call alone with 2 full pitchers and only Alice yet to arrive—to make our way to the chicken/eagle split. Booty Call had warned that the eagle was definitely longer but that it probably the easier trail to find. HA!, said I, I fear no difficulties on the path to less running. We were also warned that we should barrel through things if necessary. Hmmm! Memories of Bottom and HUA’s infamous “Punk Rock” trail a couple of years back where hash marks brought us through impassable buildings, closed schools,  and solid rock. The chicken trail went rather directly west across St Mark’s Place to a check at Astor Place where I found Ed Lunch checking. ED, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING ON THE CHICKEN!?!?!?! Had Ed’s drive to get the most bang for his $15 bucks finally honed in on the fact that he can drink more if he gets to the on in before anyone else? But anyway, we found a bugger of a check with a false trail in every humanly possible direction including the one we weren’t meant to go in (well at least on the east side of the street). Lafayette it was and south we went but a right onto Bleeker ran us into a mark leading through a closed, locked fence. I knew this fence; it bent around and exited back on Lafayette I said confidently, only to find no joy at the other side. By this point a virginal companion and I were a bit perplexed. At times like these, a veteran hasher does the only thing she can do in a moment like this: go back to the last true trail mark and start over? Stop and think; work the problem? Box a wide berth? Get out your cell phone and call for the on in? Ding ding ding, we have a winner. Poor little virgin though was appalled by my actions and I told her

 

Why can’t we all just get aLong?

I played duck-and-cover when I spotted a work colleague sitting at the bar at Spring Lounge, hoping that I would just blend in with the odorama that was “we the pack.” We took up position at the end of the bar and into the back room, stationed just a little too close for comfort to the bathrooms. The Spring Lounge on a Sunday is a real neighborhood bar and was pretty well packed even before we arrived. We found that many of the harriettes (WC, Got Wood?, Slip and Slide, etc) had arrived back from the mountainous retreat to join us for the on in, regaling us with stories of flues and full contact Cranium.

 

I think Flaccido and Booty Call had laid down enough cash and good will every Friday for the last two years to get us a decent deal at the bar. It’s good to know being a drunk pays off in the end! Down downs started with word that the missing hare, Booty Call, was last heard from doing a pub crawl from the beer check to the on in, so waiting for him was a non-starter. That said, he arrived just in time to get his haring down down along with Too Long and Flaccido. Booty Call had to stay up for keeping his hat on (god knows he need another drink). The virgins and visitors got theirs followed by Virgin Phal drinking out his pristine pair of shoes. Ed Lynch drank for appearing on the chicken trail… or was that for appearing like a chicken. I should check my notes. Finally AOTW to the hares for picking the most crowded bar in NYC for the on in.

 

Anyhoo, much pizza arrived and we drank for a pretty decent amount of time before the end of hash cash so I’ve got nothing to complain about.  I wasn’t up for a Long night anyway.

 

On out.

 


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