NYCH3 #1287

NYCH3 #1287

Sunday, October 5, 2008

Hare: The Body

Start: Bedford Ave., Williamsburg

On-In: Sound Fix Lounge, Bedford Ave. and N 11th Street

Scribe: Pussy In Boots

The weather forecast in Brooklyn for a crisp Autumn Sunday had been odd: ‘Partially sunny with a chance of treachery in the afternoon.’ I was late to the Start and stood at the corner of 7th Street and Bedford Avenue in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, with no trail in sight, surrounded by hipsters (with offspring), and without neither Mace nor a sidearm – the outlook was grim indeed. The day’s Hare was The Body, who indicated the location to be ‘the Bedford Avenue, L train stop’ – an ambiguous suggestion, meaning that the trail might begin at Bedford Ave, or it might begin at Driggs Ave, and it certainly began a downward spiral towards the intersection of Mayhem and Despair.

Sundays in Williamsburg mean extravagant strollers, tiny dogs, and overpriced jewelry from 1986. The trail thoughtfully meandered past graffiti-laden hearses, wound lazily through sunlit construction sites, and reveled in the joys of Greenpoint’s 71st Annual Pulaski Day Parade. The trail became hopelessly confused somewhere near McCarren Park, where, after a few unmarked turns, multi-directional red-herring splits, and arrows leading to a garage sale (only a Crock Pot and some Mantovani LPs,) the sorry r*nners began to wander aimlessly, shambling like zombies in B-Film. A few Harrier/ette(s) were circling the McCarren Park track for almost 90min, when Splat lead the poor, dizzy stragglers onward to victory and Pabst Blue Ribbon.

The On-In was perpetrated at the ‘Sound Fix Lounge’ – an afterthought of a saloon behind a record shop specializing in rare Lawrence Welk bootlegs and John Denver re-issues. The Lounge’s regulars either ran away weeping when they attempted to enter their favorite watering hole only to find foul-smelling freaks swilling tepid cans of PBR, or gnashed their teeth and bitterly cursed any form of personal fitness, no matter how debauched or depraved. Belgian Waffles arrived shortly before the circle (from "Wafles and Dinges") along with gourmet potato chips, and much to everyone’s delight the World’s Most Lackadaisical Bartender began anemically pouring Bloody Marys at $5 a pint.

And as for the nefarious Down-Downs:

– Our Visitor to the sorry affair was Saddle Me Paddle Me, fresh in from Frankfurt.

– Wishing she was at the parade (better beer), Just Basia received the Pulaski Day Down-Down.

– Emphasizing the slacker-ness of Williamsburg, were our Overacheivers (who decided to r*n even more after the trail), as well as Fast American Dave and Just Peter – dirty rats who quaffed Whipped Cream & PBRs for their zealotry (what people will do, just to make Pabst Blue Ribbon palatable.)

– The Body got his 11th Annual Fortieth Birthday Down-Down, thus demonstrating that taste in companionship doesn’t improve with age.

– Lastly, Sunday was a triple-crown Down-Down day for The Body, who with Viagra Vince, shared the title of Asshole of The Week, and all the responsibility that goes with it.

So after the circle and more despicable fun, it was with great exultation that after the Hash Cash dried up, Empress Norma railroaded the proceedings – rallying the troops to stagger towards Mugs’ Alehouse for good beer, and slightly less abysmal service, for comparably steep prices. What’s not to love about reeling from On-In to an After-On-In? At the end, it was a very picturesque trail, beautiful weather, and a grand afternoon of r*nning/w*lking/reeling.

On-Out, Pussy In Boots