BH3 #598

BH3 #598
Start: Union & Metropolitan
On In: Brooklyn Stable (100 ft from start, lazy bum)
Hare: FMIG
Coming out of the L train, I was greeted by a small yet determined group of hashers eager to get back on track after the new year. Most encouraging was the Virgin who had an Irish Coffee that might be more properly called a "Whiskey that might have met some coffee once".  FMIG gave a thorough chalk talk, explaining everything up to and including dick checks. With the first chilly hash of the new year upon us, we reluctantly handed over our coats to FMIG.
Off we went, and immediately lost the trail thanks to FMIG's white on white hash marks. Up and down through the navy yards, we soon discovered that the trail advertised as 3-and-you're-on was really 1-and-you're-on, thanks to a certain lazy hare, although there was one check where the trail went back the other way, leading late-cumming Little Dirty to gripe later about a U-turn pack mark.
After a short and sweet 3.5 miles, we found ourselves almost back where we started, at an on-in where canned beer, particularly Pork Slap, was king, and where wings and hummus were the unusual refreshments. With one crazy bar regular to cheer us on, the visiting JM Noah's Dinghy handed out the down-downs:
(ed. note: identifying Noah's Dinghy as a 'visiting JM' would normally be incorrect, since he is one of our two fearless leaders; however, during this particular circle he presided with a lack of zest and also made a reference or two to the evening's "Knickerbocker Hash", and so I will pardon this neophyte hasher-scribe his indiscretion and chalk this description up to ND's own somewhat flat performance in circle [as hashers, we abhor flatness. Be it beers or breasts, it is a no-go for us] as well as his confusion about his general location in time and space. – CB)
Hare: FMIG
Virgin: Just Sonya (brought by Guerilla Whorefare)
 +1 for announcing at the start that she was "ready to win this", and then taking a shortcut.
Visitor: Guerilla Whorefare
Smashmouth: Complained about the baseline in the bar, and supposedly went book shopping on trail, though I don't remember that at all.
Just Brad: I might have whined about how holding things like chalk in your hand while running alters your stride, WHICH IT TOTALLY DOES.
Donner Kabob: Fell on the trail. Well done.
Cheeky Bastard: For being unrecognizable. He must have shed or been attacked by a razor blade.
Many a Pork Slap later, the hash went in peace.