BH3 #518

 

BH3 #518, June 14, 2010

Start:               Newkirk on the BQ

On In:              Lowlands Bar, Gowanus

Hare:               Noah’s Dingy

Scribe:             Whoremaster

June 14’s Hash was a difficult one for me. That morning I had bid goodbye to Sue. Was the longest relationship I’ve ever had. Was nice while it lasted. She was really low maintenance, cheap to take out, and a good travel companion.

But we’d both changed. Hate to sound like the caricature of a deluded middle-aged male, but she wasn’t in the best shape. Maybe it was her age. Her body wasn’t what it used to be and her… "performance" had long begun to decline. That said, a lot of her problems were my fault. I know I had neglected and abused her these last few years.

Still, I just couldn’t take her anywhere anymore. She and I had been around the block a few times together and we both knew things needed lots of work. I decided, however, that it wasn’t worth the time and commitment, and it would be better for me to start anew. I mean, you gotta know when to cut your losses and move on. Monday morning, I literally left here standing in the road. I saw a guy in a truck come by and pick her up, and like that she was gone.

I’ll miss her. She was quiet, undemanding, and always there for me when I wanted to go out for a good time. So I’m indebted to her. But you know? You Brooklyn Hashers are too. She carried your bags to lots of OnIns (and she never lost a single one). She also carried many of you home from lots of OnIns (and never lost one of you either). She did a lot for the Brooklyn Hash. I think the last thing I took from her when I left her standing at the curb was a box of chalk. I think we can all agree that her departure is truly the BH3’s loss.

Despite this swell of emotions, I made it to Monday’s Hash. It was supposedly the first day of the Tour de Brooklyn (and look Manhattanites, that’s "de" as in "duh", not "day," ok?). All that was relevant to me was that it ended in Gowanus; i.e. close to my apartment in Park Slope. I was able to participate in the circle and can report the following transgressions and Down-Downs:

  • The Hare, for not showing up at the start. I contend that any time Noah’s Dinghy fails to show the result is a better Hash, but the circle thought differently.
  • The Hare, for wearing new shoes. Note that the Hare was none other than the JM. Note further that typically, JMs are experienced Hashers; people who know the rules. So a JM that wears new shoes on trail deserves at least a double, in my opinion. By the way, does this not say something about the competence and credibility of the current management? Oh well, let’s not go there right now.
  • Blister Sister, for parrot lovin’. Suffice to say that if the parrot knew Blister Sister like we know her, he would have stayed far away. I think that ethically speaking she’s obligated to find the parrot and provide him full disclosure, so he can seek out the help he’ll need.
  • A Visitor, I.M. Cumsane, for topless hashing. Can’t blame him. Perhaps he was online and found those pictures of Headlights at the Polar Bear Hash. I mean, millions of others have, at this point.
  • Screaming Orgasm and US Marine Whore, for shortcutting. In Screaming Orgasm’s absence, Dental Damned stepped up and downed. [Note at this point that we were no longer singing and shouting, but whispering, for the children.]
  • Ivory Dickler, who, in an attempt to lose weight, has foresworn beer for three weeks. How’d that work out for you Monday night, ID?
  • Just Eric and Technically Foul, for premature marking. Lay off! They were just really excited to Hash in Brooklyn. The correct response would have been patience and understanding.
  • Splat, for spilling Barnacle’s beer. Usually Splat just drinks other peoples’ beer. This time he found a different way of emptying the glass.
  • Barnacle and Technically Foul, for doing last week’s circle. Hmm… I thought last week’s hash was slightly more dignified than usual… Fat chance they’ll be asked to do that again.
  • Finally, the evening further included a moment of silence for my, and by extension, the Bklyn Hash’s loss.

It felt odd for me to walk back from Monday’s OnIn, and to arrive back home, without her there, waiting for me.   


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