New York City Hash House Harriers

NYCH3 #1163

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NYCH3#1163

June 14, 2006

Start: SW corner of Lafayette and Houston

Hares: FMIG and Lauren

On-In: Ace bar (E.5th St. between Ave. A and B)

Punk-Ass Bitch: Jenn


 




There was a small gathering of hashers until close to 7:10 at which point it seemed the whole world trickled out of the numerous subway entrances at each corner. They made their way over to form a bustling mob of athletically clad boozers and we were on our way.

 

Considering FMIG was involved with this trail and the only thing to say is that the checks kept everyone at bay is a miracle along the lines of one night’s oil burning for eight. (Ask FMIG if you didn’t understand that one). Most likely Lauren was able to beat some sense into him. The trail went around and around no where in particular and despite surreptitious use of blue chalk and the whole three-or-four-or-whatever-and-your-on thing we eventually made it to the on-in.

 

The humid evening, a packed bar and a reserved hasher area in the back combined for a tight, sweaty squeeze through many a bar patron. Skeeball tournament anyone? Not only that but the bar didn’t have pitchers so thirsty hasher after thirsty hasher pranced around the waitress (carrying four or so beers at a time) showing her the sharpie marks (made by the hash-cash collecting hares) on our hands to indicate that we were f*cking thirsty.

 

The hares received accolades for their outstanding use of blue chalk on trail. Visitors included Glory Hole from San Fran, someone from Sweden and someone from Princeton. Glory Hole took full responsibility for the Oh Shit quandary. A couple virgins and the circle continued.

 

Mean Jean kept asking for a guy with a beard. I’m not sure if she was calling someone out for a trail offense or beginning to list desirable characteristics in her ideal mate. Chad (sporting new facial hair) stepped up to heed the call but he was flatly rejected. Guy with a beard if you’re out there, Mean Jean is looking for you. Be afraid…be very afraid.

 

Bill, aka Wet Willie, is believed to have started a craze called the pack check and despite him not using it on this trail he received the down-down for someone else’s transgression.

 

Does Oh Shit actually have competition for next year’s Assh*le of the Year? Could it even be possible? No but for the second time in three weeks Fast American Dave got Assh*le of the Week. This time for running in Washington Square Park, declaring the trail false and r*nning somewhere else. The hapless pack finally found their way and most came in before the FRB.


FMIG got a down-down for losing the golden toilet seat trophy bestowed at the Annual General Meeting for his Assh*le of the Year award. Why anyone would know or care…

 

In a cry for help (and some beer) Gillian announced that it was her birthday (or maybe it was the day before or maybe she said last week). Happy 36th!

 

And per usual we ruined yet another bar’s pool table with pizza grease.

 

On-out