Last Can of Who Hash
December 23, 2007
Hares: US Marine Whore and Noah’s Dinghy
Start: West Broadway and Chambers St
On-Ins: The Patriot
Scribe: Eager 4 Beaver
'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the city, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. Hashers, on the other hand, were stirring up the usual trouble. You see, do-gooders US Marine Whore and Noah's Dinghy sponsored – I mean hared – the latest in what's become a spate of dreaded Theme Hashes. This one was the Last Can of Who Hash, the point of which was to collect canned food donations from poor, hungry hashers in exchange for a generous $5 hash cash discount. The irony was that hashers left the on-in still hungry since $10 barely buys cold beer, let alone edible pizza.
There was some concern that the hash bus – really, Peter's slick new BMW – would need to be called into service to haul the pack's generous donations to the Salvation Army, or, depending on the quality, to USMW's and ND's cupboard. Luckily the pack was not that charitable and everything fit into a duffel bag.
The start was warm and wet, much like the Christmas cheer that the pack was anticipating. The hardy troupe was sent on its way and encountered trouble soon enough as it found itself on the wrong side of a long chain link fence in a building complex just north of CUNY. The pack gamely hopped the fence and picked up the trail – all except Leslie, who apparently didn't expect the r*n to be long enough and chose to go around the fence instead of over it.
Everyone knows that walking under a ladder is bad luck. Peter must have had this on his mind, because, when encountering one being carried across the trail, he chose to run through it. Or tried to. In the spirit of the holidays, the pack laughed and pointed.
The pack managed to stay together as it passed the Holland Tunnel up to Houston Street. And as far as I know, continued to stay together for the remainder of the trial, as your scribe became hopelessly lost thanks to what must have been an especially tricky check. The rest of the pack obviously didn't appreciate its cleverness, as they solved it pretty easily.
The trail continued along Houston, through Little Italy, and back to City Hall. A pack mark or two would have been appreciated, but the remaining checks weren't too difficult as we worked our way west to the favorite desperation on-in, The Patriot.
Down-downs were given to the hares. Peter earned his for the ladder trick. FMIG received one for donating food that had expired a couple of apartments ago. Ed Lunch accepted his for rooting through Heather's belongings. USMW and ND were awarded another for getting some new pussy, which should be reward enough, but in this case it was for the kitten they were adopting later that night. Ed the Air Conditioner Guy was awarded one for being a drunken civilian. The circle came to an abrupt conclusion when the bartender decided she'd heard enough, and in a fit of holiday bitterness blasted the jukebox.
The pack largely ignored the Dominos, except for Lunch who insisted that it would make a good gift.