Date: Wednesday, May 25th, 2005
Start: 68th & Lex
Hares: Dr. Debbie, Charlotte and Peter
On-in: Reif’s 93rd and 3rd
Scribe: Flaccido Domingo
“Debbie Does Down-Downs”
Those in attendance: Dr. Debbie, Charlotte, Peter, Mean Jean, Fire in the Piehole, Steve, Fast American Dave, Fuck Me I’m Gay, Wiener In Hand, Karen Z, Chad, Devo, Sadie, Norma, Kindergarten Kim, BJ Boy, Booty Call, Loretta, Cockstar, Snatch My Sack, Leslie, Long Winded Hash Hole, Jim Leary and his Virgin Libin, Pussy Repellant, Mastercard (showed up late, right on MC time), Fairy Queen, Jesse, a few others who refused to give their name, and me.
The trail: West into the park, all over the park, east to Third Avenue, north to 93rd, and On-In. I know there was more to it than that, but I’m extremely hung over as I write this, and you get the gist. Well marked, lots of checks, blah blah blah. Who’s got some Tylenol?
As anybody who’s spent any time hashing with the NYCH3 can tell you, mismanagement isn’t noted for being too bright. So when a JM notices that everybody at the On-In seems like they’re on Prozac, that can only mean one thing. They’re all on Prozac.
Let me paint a picture, if I may. Reif’s is a classic dive bar. Faux wood paneling on the walls. Stained ancient linoleum tiles on the floor. A large sheet of plywood covering a pool table which might as well be nailed to the pool table because in all the times I’ve ever been there I’ve never seen the actual pool table. We just take it on faith that there’s a pool table underneath the sheet of plywood. A jukebox that plays 80’s music not because people like 80’s music but because that’s the last time they changed the CD’s in the thing. A bathroom that makes an airplane lavatory seem roomy. And regulars that look like they’ve been there since noon. Noon, May 5th, 1994.
All of which makes it the perfect place for a hash on-in. Truly they could care less what goes on in the place. They’ve even got a twister layout in the back room. Not an actual twister sheet like you buy from Toys ‘R Us, but permanently painted on the floor is a twister layout. You don’t paint a twister layout on the floor of your dive bar unless you really want people to get extremely drunk and play naked twister and you couldn’t care less. Which of course brings us to Jim Leary.
For you see, something like a twister layout painted on the floor of a dive bar is the kind of bright shining beacon that draws the best out of the Jim Leary’s of the world. Jim should have been all over that like a fat kid on a cupcake.
But no. Its like he didn’t even see the thing. Did I mention the Prozac that Dr. Debbie apparently slipped to everybody? I sat there with pen and paper in hand waiting for the nonsense to flow like free beer. Nothing. Jim stood there making polite conversation with other hashers (1st sign the apocalypse is upon us). Charlotte sat quietly talking to Kindergarten Kim. Kindergarten Kim sat quietly talking to Charlotte (2nd sign). Fire in the Piehole was very well behaved (3rd). Steve didn’t have a PDA episode with Eva (4th). Booty Call did nothing to draw attention to himself (5th). Nobody did anything really stupid on trail (6th). There was plenty of hash cash and pizza (7th).
That’s it. We’re all going to die.
Its in moments of crisis like this that we cling to ritual. We cling to tradition. To the stories handed down by our ancestors, to the gods we worshipped, to the fabric of our existence which we’ve created that help us make sense of the unknown. That which helps us cope with the knowledge of our own mortality and the fear of death and what comes after. We come together in these times of anxiety and take comfort in each other’s presence, in our shared sense of uncertainty. In short, we circle up.
- What did we think of the trail? Hello? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller? Oh well, the hares drank anyway.
- In fact, thanks to Dr. Debbie’s Prozac stunt, since everybody is so quiet, lets just let the hares drink again.
[Editor’s note: For those who haven’t set trail before, no matter what you do people will always bitch about your trail. Trust me – no matter what you do people will bitch. For this reason, hares tend to be sadistic bastards (or bitches) because basically the pack deserves it for all that bitching. I for one believe in circle jerks, running people through buildings, 10 falses off of a check, multiple shot checks, etc. So when the pack pretty much had nothing bad to day about this trail, veteran hashers knew something was very very wrong. Back to our story now…]
· Jesse, a veteran hasher who had previously been expelled from the circle got a chance at redemption. True, he didn’t do a thing to deserve a down-down, but in these times of need we all clutch at straws.
· Devo and Chad were asked to come forth and testify. Testify to the fact that as FRB’s they didn’t pack mark a single check. Amen brothers and sisters. As you read this you will have just finished the live trail that these two heretics set. Time will be the judge as to whether they’ve seen the light.
· Fuck Me I’m Gay received some attention for his attempt at breaking from the faithful with his Memorial Day Brooklyn un-sanctioned hash. This brought comfort to the circle, as FMIG is a familiar sight doing down-downs. As part of his penance brother FMIG received yet another unofficial nickname – Fuck Me I’m an Angry Gay Nerd. And the hits just keep on cumming.
· Dr. Debbie was called back before the faithful for shameless self-promotion, in that she organized her own goodbye hash. Dr. Debbie will be shipping off to Chicago for her residency soon, so we’ll miss her. Also, when asked Dr. Debbie refused to admit whether she’d hooked up with any hashers while she was here, so we of course assume she has. As soon as she leaves town we’ll make sure to include those details in the next write-up.
· Karen Z was brought up because she just turned 30. Not to be outdone, Dr. Debbie stepped forward because she’s about to turn 30. Its rumored that once a woman turns 30 she stops worrying about how many men she’s slept with. Time will tell.
· And finally, AOTW honors went to BJ Boy for kicking a café’s menu box all over the place while on trail. Since this was such a weak reason to be AOTW, Peter duly mouthed off enough that Mean Jean promptly sent BJ Boy back to the circle and anointed Peter with the honor of AOTW. Well done, Peter. Well done.
And with this all seemed right in the world. I had my bourbon. I had my beer. I had my pizza. Then I repeated the process. And so it went.
One final note – Sideshow Bob tells me that he’s given Dr. Debbie the names of his buddies in Chicago so that she’ll know some people when she arrives in town.
One further final note – In unrelated news, Dr. Debbie has announced that during her residency she’ll be doing a special research project on the harmful effects of alcohol on the liver.