NYCH3 #1299

Sunday, December 28, 2008

Start:  Northwest corner, Washington Square Park

Hares:  Wet Willie and Red-Headed Steve

On-In:  Kings Head Tavern on 14th St.

Scribe:  Lesley

 

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Wow!  A group of hashers standing around the start location at the North-west corner of Washington Square Park in shorts and Tshirts.  On 28 December?  Really?  Gotta love that global warming and those 65F degree temperatures.  However, global warming also raises the chances of precipitation and with that in mind, the two hares, Wet Willy & Red-Headed Steve, informed the pack that the trail was set mainly in flour, with a few chalk marks thrown in for good measure.  And with that pronouncement and the usual chalk/flour talk, we were sent off in a southerly direction.  And then the problems ensued.

 

Where was that first mark?  Where was that huge dollop of flour beckoning the pack onward?  Oh, wait, let me fish out my magnifying glass?  I think I see it.  Could that miniscule amount of white powder actually be flour, or is that really Anthrax, because as we (NYPD and moronic members of the public excepted) all know: it’s extremely difficult (not to mention dangerous) to manufacture large amounts of Anthrax.  Given the size of this light dusting of powder, perhaps that really is Anthrax – or a drug bust gone awry.  However, after some forensic sleuthing of CSI proportions, it was determined that the blobette was indeed of the cooking/hashing variety and it was on to the next mark – wherever that might be.  Indeed, given the paucity of flour, one hasher actually questioned whether there was some sort of ongoing food crisis in NYC.  And, with every mark being its own little check, there was much stopping and starting and running around in circles and in wrong directions, until somehow, some sort of trail was cobbled together – with much help of those pack-marking.  Clearly, the hares failed to realize the true versatility of flour and its capacity to be sprinkled into arrows and other shapes that could alert the pack to the fact that the trail was – drum roll please – going round the corner!!!

 

I would love to tell you where the trail went, but with my eyes fixed firmly on the sidewalk checking left and right for signs of flour, I, quite frankly, have no idea where we went except that we did end up in Stuyvesant Town for a bit.  As had become par for the course, ahem, hash, we dashed hither and thither until some eagle-eyed hasher found the next mark and finally, an hour (but only 4 miles or so) later, we stumbled into the bar.  And luckily for them, this is where our hares redeemed themselves by providing a largish bar with church pews for seating, art on the walls (!), copious amounts of beer and even KFC for grub. 

 

With more than half of the Committee elsewhere, down-down duties went to Fast American Dave, ably assisted by ex-JM Peter.  The hares, of course, were duly honoured – for both the dismally-marked trail and their failure to mark the On In location at the start.  Other down downs went to the virgins and visitors, which included our very own Finger Licking’ Good (now in DC) and someone (I didn’t catch the name) from Bahrain.  Wet Willy drank for his birthday while Stewa drank because the St-part fell over and the Ewa-part was hit by a signpost that jumped out from somewhere.  Mary was awarded for her extensive checking in Stuyvesant Town, which led her not east, not west, but, up into her apartment for a quick shower and change of clothes.  Anna drank for mixing up the lyrics and depicting the hares as flat-chested as opposed to being in need of some penile enhancement.  But then, she does know RH Steve better than most ….    ‘Nuff said.  And AOTW went to Leonid who questioned why FAD was carrying a plunger with him.  A valid question for anyone else in the bar, but not so a hasher. 

 

Note to the Committee: not sure if this merits the WROTY award, but pending future disasters of epic proportions, this could definitely be in the running ….

 

On Out.


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