The 2009 Santa’s Sluts Trail brought to you by the NY Hash and hared by the NY Harriettes!
We hashed through some pretty dense crowds of shoppers and tourists on this trail. I’ve found New Yorkers do a good job of polite herding. If your in a crowd and not paying attention, they employ a number helpful tactics to get you back on track including stepping on your heels, pushing, the bone-jarring shoulder block, or any number of colorful verbal commands. They can be an engaging and caring people.
As we made our way down to the start from our pre-lube at the Emerald Inn, I was curious to see what this pre-Christmas crowd might do to remind us to keep moving in a predictable path. They apparently thought the best response to us was to clear the way, remain silent and avoid eye-contact. We arrived at the tree at Lincoln Center at the same time Wolf Blitzer was walking by. I’m told his alarmed double-take nearly gave him whiplash. It’s heartening to know that the man who has been bringing us war correspondence for nearly two decades could be frightened by the likes of us.
As we assembled, I considered whether we would have felt more at home in the Village. However, shock and awe should be the point of these special NY Harriettes trails, shouldn’t it? We need to deliver that visual bone-jarring shoulder block to the conventional New Yorker. It’s a courtesy.
Some of us weren’t into this mission. Take the example of one hasher who neither dressed the part of a slut nor a Santa, but arrived at the on-after to sarcastically remark how proud MY mother should be. If I lambasted him for not participating, I’d have to mention the REAL elephant on the room- the hash traditionalists vs the progressive hashers. Let’s leave that for another day. Or skip it. There’s value in both philosophies! However, this was a trail for the progressives. We can even accept the aforementioned hasher’s slackness for, in the hash, "there are no rules." I’m personally disinterested in calling him a homo-phobic. After all, you know, what would that make me?
We missed having the beautiful and talented Headlights at the start to marshall us into a group grope (hash jargon: photograph). Off we went through the half-scraped sidewalks, over the mounds of snow at the intersections and into the gray, icy slush. The trail was well-marked with one exception. It took us in a direction perfect for our mission- right into Rockefeller Center. The epicenter of the massive herd of Christmas tourist sheep. Baaaa!
It was at Rockefeller Center that the marks failed us. I went a little crazy with the outfit in the judgement of a certain CNN anchor, so I was determined to keep up with as many hashers as possible. I lost ALL MARKS and EVERYBODY in the MIDDLE of this packed crowd! Like the dreams about arriving at school with no clothes- this was my worst fear. Suddenly, the sheep all seemed like Wolf Blitzers. Thankfully, many seemed to get the joke. Some wanted photos including two cops parked in a van. I was also very happy to find Melanie and we got the Hell out of there. We headed toward the hotline’s on-after locale. We rejoined trail marks on Park or Fifth and found a mid-trail beer stop about a mile and a half later. I can’t say much about it as I arrived about a minute before we needed to go. I did get a good photo of Mastercard’s sister, though (see the 39 photographs I posted to hashnyc.com).
Once we resumed following trail, the on-in was very close by. We arrived at the Parlor at 86th and Broadway. We got out of the cold and into a few cold ones. Once there, I tried to get as many names as possible. I came up with 53 who attended or made an appearance as follows:
Amelea (award winner! see below)
A Little Dirty
Blitzer, Wolf (appearance)
Ewa (excellent Grinch sweater)
Fast American Dave
I Like Head
Kelly (Mastercard’s twin)
Lisa The Librarian
Mary The Greek
Mean Jean The Down Down Machine
Melanie Munchen (awesome Christmas ermine coat)
NY Cock Exchange (always the Empress of fashion)
Ow! My Balls
Polish Man Slave
Rich The Brit (joined us for the pre-lube at the Emerald Inn)
Salt Lick (our hare for the trail)
Sarah Down Under
Sarah The Intern (my personal favorite costume)
Sausage Factory (visitor from the San Fransisco Hash)
Trader Blows (outrageous jester hat)
Trips N Balls
US Marine Whore
We enjoyed a few beers, conversation, and food (mac and cheese with an occasional shrimp if you weren’t behind Sausage Factory in line). Then, the Joint Masters of the NY Hash called the Circle to order. Trips N Balls and Fire-In-The-Piehole (Joint Masters of the NY Hash) presided over the first half of the Circle. Here are the beverage rewards they presented:
Salt Lick: For haring a shitty trail! We sang "The Hairs of Her Dicky-di-do" for her trail (which I personally loved).
Virgins Kate, Alyssa and James: For, you know, being virgins! We sang "True Blue." Ow! My Balls made these girls come. They were wearing matching "Ho Ho Ho" underpants. Indeed.
Visitor Sausage Factory: For being a visitor from San Fransisco. We sang "Here’s to Brother Hasher."
Fast American Dave: For failing to follow the green ribbons. We sang "B.I.M.B.O."
Lesley, Tit Totaler and Crawlaholic: For hashing in their own private Idaho. They abandoned trail early on and went through Central Park, instead.
Lisa The Librarian: For trying to reach the Tidy Bowl man on her new Samsung phone.
Wet Connection: For several similar cell phone calls. We sang "What a Wank" to these ladies.
Trader Blows: For an unusual comment overheard on trail. Apparently a tourist remarked that he "had the best hat in the history of hats!"
Yours truly (I-Feel Tower): For being too trusting and leaving my bag on a table and not the curb near the Lincoln Center tree for the bag handlers.
Mean Jean The Down Down Machine: For commenting that "if he’s stupid enough not to leave his bag on the curb we should leave it there." We sang some song for the aptly named Mean Jean.
Marie: For being mistaken by a juvenile tourist on trail as a "runaway elf." This was an accusation by someone in the crowd, I believe.
Salt Lick: For choosing a poor direction to take this trail. I think two better possibilities were suggested. This may also have been a crowd accusation.
The NY Harriettes, represented by Brittany, Salt Lick, Trips N Balls and US Marine Whore, took over the Circle to present the following awards:
Yours truly (I-Feel Tower): The award for Cross Dresser Extraordinaire. They said "once in a while, someone goes just a little too far as a cross dresser…" For my self-respect, I received a $2.99 "Mrs Claus Stripper Pen." I’m writing the Hash Trash with it, now.
Death Breast: For Best Hanukkah Bush. Was this was for her reindeer antlers? I was talking to Doggy Style and not listening. We sang the Dreidel song.
Santa’s Slut of the Year: The Grand Prize! For this one they nominated three women. Attention-whore males were forbidden (Bitches). They called Amelea, Lisa The Librarian and Liz into the Circle. The winner was chosen based on the volume of crowd applause. It took two tries, but the winner was … Amelea! She was given a wind-up, walking Santa Claus with an unfeasibly large penis.
I left shortly after the end of Circle. I can only assume that everyone got roaring drunk and there was a mass, slutty orgy on the sticky basement floor of the Parlor Bar.
Disrespectfully submitted, I-Feel Tower