NYCH3 #1283

NYCH3 #1283

RDR XI

September 6, 2008

Hares: The Fearsome Foursome

Start/On-In: Club Rehab, Avenue B & 2nd Street

Scribe: Noah’s Dinghy

The heading of this write-up is perhaps a bit misleading, as the only hares anyone saw at this year’s Red Dress R*n were Salt Lick and Jimmy. Frankly, I’d like to see some proof that HUA is actually still in New York, given that he hasn’t shown up for the any of the hashes in the past year for which he’s been listed as the hare.

The festivities this year were marked by rain. Lots of it. And high winds lifting Stewa’s unnecessarily short skirt. It was like that scene from The Seven Year Itch, except it was deeply disturbing and no one who saw it will ever recover. Despite the unpleasant weather, hostile locals (seriously, people in the East Village were surprised by the sight of men in dresses), an utterly incomprehensible email regarding “tickets” to the hash, and an even more intense police presence than usual, a very large pack showed up at Club Rehab to begin the serious business of making absolute fools of ourselves.

After receiving the usual “We think the trail is still out there, and it shouldn’t be very long, but good luck” chalk talk, the pack headed west towards 1st Avenue . . . and promptly got hopelessly lost. After meandering a few blocks this way and that (for some reason, most hashers wanted to stay together), one enterprising hasher declared himself the new live hare and started r*nning in various random directions. It’s my understanding this went on for some time, until the majority of the pack made their way back to Rehab, which was the on-in as well.

Blackout and I, however, came across Empress Norma, who had found true trail, and so we decided to find out just what the original hares planned for us. We picked up Riding Big Jake and Just Dana along the way, and r*n up through the bulk of the East Village, up to Cooper Union, east on St. Mark’s, past a confused wedding party, and back to Rehab. During the course of the trail, we endured some abuse from the aforementioned locals, a good number of cheers, more than a handful of “What the fucks”, and a couple of guys hooting at myself and Blackout. Seriously, ladies, do you have to deal with being leered at like that all the time? Well, I am reformed. I’m not gonna stop, but from now on I will feel bad about it.

Once back at the on-in, after everyone had a chance to dry off and drink copious amounts of Blue Point, the circle was called to order, and the following down-downs were given:

1) Salt Lick and Jimmy, as hares.

2) The virgins, of whom there were several who apparently couldn’t bring themselves to hash previously, but could work up the courage when donning a cocktail dress was involved.

3) Visitors: a guy from San Diego; two people from Pittsburgh who sang a very long ditty that I tuned out after the first verse but apparently was about how they were from Pittsburgh and not at all about hashing, and a Summit hasher who brought his daughter.

4) Red-headed Steve was given a down-down for bringing an umbrella on trail, even though he’d have needed a submarine to stay dry.

5) Fireman Tim, whose straps broke off within a block of the start, prompting the cop in his nearby cruiser to call “I hope you’re wearing underwear.”

6) AOTW was given to G-Dick for deliberately splashing a number of hashers by r*nning through the deepest puddles he could find.

The JMs having doled out their down-downs, the RDR Committee, also known as Salt Lick, took her place in the middle of the circle to make people drink. The guy from San Diego was called back up, though I have no idea why. Red-Headed Steve and his father were given down-downs, in recognition of the fact that most of us take great pains not to let our families know about this particular hash. Cockstar and Pussy Repellent, whose impending nuptials the following weekend had forced the RDR to be rescheduled, were ordered to drink as punishment for screwing with the hash calendar. There were probably others, but, and this is going to surprise the hashers who know me well, I was drunk and didn’t keep particularly good notes.

Fortunately, there was pizza and lots more beer, so a good time was had by all.

On-out!


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