NYCH3 #1153 Date: Sunday, April 9, 2006
Start: Spring
Hares: Dr. Steve and Jonathan
On-In: East River,
Scribe: Lauren
“Not one, but TWO
A hearty sized pack congregated at Spring St. and 6th Ave on this beautiful April day to hear what the hares had to say. Clear instructions regarding a cheagle (=chicken + eagle for you slow people) check were given, bags were piled into a convenient hash mobile, and we were off. A few tough checks at the beginning kept the pack oddly tight and comments were made regarding actually seeing Chad and Fast American Dave while on trail.
The cheagle check in Chinatown split the pack neatly in half and after about 15 minutes of searching, those less ambitious (or those that had already raced in the morning) hashers (including myself) finally found the elusive Chicken trail. We sailed through Chinatown without any obstacles or people to run around and no disgusting fishy smells to hamper us at all (riiiiight).
Eventually we came upon a check at the base of the Williamsburg Bridge. Rich and The Saint declared “every direction is false!” Silly boys they couldn’t force themselves to believe that we would really be going OVER the bridge into Brooklyn on an NYCH3 r*n. Having been subjected to similar treatment at Friday’s GGFM this turn of events did not surprise some of us and we headed for Brooklyn once again. The hares had left a taunting “T-H-A-T-‘-S R-I-I-I-I-G-H-T” message on the bridge walkway which they would be sure to pay for later! Oh and did you know that the Williamsburg Bridge is about 1.4 miles long? The hares did, and they proudly revealed it later. That’s a hell of a straight-away for a hasher, but the views were worth it.
Shortly after surviving the river crossing, the on-in at East River greeted us with open arms and a delightful open-air back yard. Everyone relaxed and enjoyed the continually shrinking sunlit areas of the patio. Everyone, that is, except for Fast American Dave, who had a bit of trouble finding his sunglasses amongst the crowd of chairs. After enlisting anyone and everyone to help look for them, he found them securely located…….in his pants pocket! Whoever says too much running and beer drinking doesn’t damage brain cells is……ummm……well they’re wrong.
Mean Jean was in rare form and her and Jumpin’ Jack Gash delved out down-downs in front of an unusually captive audience:
-The Hares….a great trail with few complaints aside from the fact that it will take us all forever to get home …..and a down-down for every “I” in their message on the bridge
– Visitors Anal Fission and another guy with a suspiciously dark tan for early April (“maybe he’s a fisherman?!” –Rich)
– A handful of virgins who were particularly poor beer chuggers and probably didn’t find their way back to Manhattan
– A visiting couple who weren’t present at the circle when the first group of visitors drank hmmmm what could they possibly have been doing?
– The Saint for being a tough guy and doing a round of sit-ups on the ground outside after reaching the on-in….oh and for his usual atrocious flame shorts
– Carla (now known as “0 to 60”) and yours truly for being crazy FRBitches and “winning” the hash
– 0 to 60 again because, well, why not…she’s leaving us for Chicago in a few weeks
– 0 to 60 AGAIN for wearing some hot sequined shoes along w/
Victoria –Tall boots
Robert –Laceless orange Chuck Taylors that have seen better days
Norman – whose wife reportedly has so many pairs of shoes that the NYT
did a story on her….gotta figure the guy deserves a free beer after paying for all of those shoes!
– U.S. Marine Whore for scaring passersby (and Mean Jean) as she shouted expletives upon hearing the hotline message give a Brooklyn on-in location
At that point Mean Jean and JJG were pretty much done and moved on to make some announcements. Now I don’t know exactly what happened, but I think that first down-down must have damaged the filter between my brain and my mouth. As Jean was explaining that at the AGM new committee members are appointed etc, etc I blurted out “so that means we won’t have to listen to you for another whole year?!” I was quickly rewarded for my lacking inner-monologue with a large down-down beer. That pretty much wrapped up the circle and we moved on to bigger and better things like ummm foosball and pizza and the last few remaining scraps of sunlight.
On-out.