NYCH3 #1139


NYCH3 #1139

Date: 1st January 2006

Start:  72nd & Broadway

Hares:  Dave Hardy, Laird, et al*

On-in:  Dive 75 (75th & Columbus)

Scribe:  Fire-In-The-Piehole


*See below for “al’s” dubious contribution to this misadventure.


A New Year is always an opportunity for a fresh start. This year it’s going to be different. This year it’s going to be better. This year we’ll all drink responsibly at the On-In. This year the trails will be a reasonable length and not completely f*cked up. This year we’ll travel to new and unpredictable On-Ins. This year MasterCard will get to the starts on time. This year Chad & Devo will mark the checks. This year Stewa will drink what everyone else is drinking, even if it doesn’t include Stella. This year I’ll get my write-ups done on time. This year…


What seemed at first to be the triumph of hope over experience turned out, in fact, to be simple naïveté shipwrecked on the rocks of disappointment. Not one, I tell you, not one of these simple entreaties would come to pass. (OK, fair enough: the responsible drinking thing was always going to be a bit of a stretch)


So it was with misplaced joy that we arrived at the corner of 72nd and Broadway for our first hash of 2006. The chalk talk was administered (apparently, for I was late as usual) by our capable hares: Dave Hardy, Laird and his son, Gregory.


Now, I know what you’re thinking, “Woah! Woah! Woah! Back it up, Charlie! ‘His son, Gregory’? What sort of nonsense is this?”


Oh, you weren’t thinking that? Well, you should’ve been because ‘nonsense’ was indeed what ensued. There was talk of larger than usual Circle Jerks and somewhat odd-looking arrows.


For the record, all future hares intending to employ the “larger than usual Circle Jerk” manoeuvre are encouraged not to use the technique empoloyed by our hares today. Namely, to put one big circle jerk around the island of Manhattan and thus obviate the need to actually set a trail.


While I’m at it, let me stipulate that Gregory’s arrows did have a degree of artistic quality to them but are to be discouraged nonetheless: get into MoMA they might; get your thirsty Pack to the On-In they will not.


You might have thought that the adult supervision would have provided some harness to Gregory’s hash marks-cum-sidewalk art. Regrettably, one has to ask “What adult supervision?”.


We headed West towards the river and immediately collapsed into chaos and disarray as we stumbled upon our first Circle Jerk Of Unusual Size (CJOUS or, hereafter, clusterf*cks). We all split up in various directions (as is the required behaviour at a check unless, apparently, your name is FMIG), heading to the outer boroughs to find where the trail picked up again. I think it’s fair to say that the pack was pretty much fragmented from this point onwards.


We found some semblance of a trail heading south along the boardwalk by the river, through a series of clusterf*cks before the trail turned east towards Broadway again. We headed through Columbus Circle, past the obligatory naked woman standing outside the shops (note to those visiting (or thinking of visiting) the NYCH3 for the first time: yeah, this happens *all* the time: women stripping off when we run past. Welcome to New York City).


The trail wound its way through the Circle and up into the Park from where, with a couple of shiggy deviations, we emerged around 70th Street. Those who hadn’t guessed three days earlier that we were heading to Dive 75 or who just like to follow the trail on general principle, followed the marks up Columbus, around the block at 73rd and back to Columbus (some awfully amusing attempt at a Circle Jerk swan song, no doubt). The rest didn’t fall for such shenanigans and made a bee-line for the bar. (Rumours of some of the guys, skipping the bar and making a bee-line for the naked woman at Columbus Circle are unfounded largely because the guys were unaware of the display until it was mentioned at the On-In).


And so to the Down-Downs. Unfortunately, this is where things get a little hazy (the perils of accepting the JM’s notes written on the back of a paper tissue; a paper tissue that you subsequently use inadvertently for its intended purpose). The salient points here, however, are that all of the hares were forced to drink for their transgressions (yes, all of them)(well, of course the kid wasn’t drinking alcohol. What do you think we are: irresponsible adults? Oh wait…)


Our visitor, Happy Assgrabber, from DC drank because…err…that’s what visitors have to do. Finally, Lesley, Mary & Lisa were hauled up on account of not having had the common sense or decency to have taken a photo of the naked woman at Columbus Circle for the general amusement of the Pack. Lisa was the one who had to drink for this negligence since she actually r*n *with* a camera.


With the informalities out of the way, a stirring rendition of The Monks of St Bernard was followed by a general implementation of New Year Resolutions. Specifically, those relating to worse diet and increased drinking. It’s nice to know, while the rest of the city is queuing up for a gym membership, you’re able to work on your resolutions from the comfort of your local bar stool.



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