Official Organ of the Greater Gotham Full Moon
Hash House Harriers
G2FMH3 Hash #196 – Friday, July 27th, 2007
Start: 125th and Lex.Hares: Alice and Anna supervised by Wee Willy On-in: Ding Dong Lounge (110th and Columbus)
Punk Ass Bitch (Scribe): Salt Lick
We knew the pack was slightly out of place standing on the corner of 125th and Lex when a bag lady asked us whether we were tourists.
An overly excited bearded guy named Jeff who had hashed a handful of times brought along his friend, Krista, who we warned not to follow FRBs who often go from first to worst.
She heeded our warning, which proved beneficial as we first ran roughly ½ a mile past a supposed chicken/eagle split and reached a backcheck to chicken.
Wee Willy, who was supervising virgin hares Anna and Alice, encouraged the pack to bring money on trail in case we wanted to make an impulse buy of one of the many gems we passed along the way, ranging in labeled price from 50 cents to about $5.
Potential purchases included: a couch, chairs, shopping cart, fax machine, used clothing bin and, my personal favorite, a pile of shit. Joe Pennsylvania considered purchasing an old shoe and even went as far as to carry it a few blocks before he was struck with the fear of having to drink out of said shoe and quickly abandoned it.
We ran across the Third Avenue bridge and snaked our way back across the Madison Avenue bridge. When we entered a large park, a note indicated that beer was near, but you had to “work for it.” Work we did, scattering ourselves all over the premises, battling stairs, tall grass and insects. Only a handful of hashers found the beer check, which reportedly supplied warm leftover beers from a previous event.
When we finally emerged from the park on the UWS, chalk marks continued to tantalize us roughly every quarter mile to ensure us beer was near. When I finally reached the spot in which beer actually was located, I informed Alice she needed a dictionary for the word near. “Why, Did I spell it wrong?” That statement earned her the B-I-M-B-O down-down song later.
The Ding-Dong Lounge hooked us up with some cheap PBRs that lasted several hours, but it was so dark that the bartender admitted he had grown allergic to the sunlight as a side effect of working there, and the tealight candles barely provided me with enough light to find my way to the circle, let alone see my pen hit the paper to record any down-downs.
But I can tell you that I had to go up there for getting my crotch soaking wet on trail in typical Salt Lick fashion with help from our bearded, excitable newbie hasher, Jeff, who was equally excited about his job working at KY Jelly, helping make the world a wetter place.
Alice also was called out one final time during a second circle later that evening and will henceforth be known as Girl Scout Nookie.
Thin Mints, anyone?