NYCH3 # 1488

NYCH3 # 1488

Hares – A lil Dirty & CPA

Start – Peter Dillon’s

On-In – Tabacco Road




Some time ago, friend, before the Solstice, but well into the warm, glad days, there was

a hash cooked up by CPA and laundered by A Little Dirty, in Manhattan, starting at a

typical Irish-themed midtown pub peopled with tie-wearing d-bags and the doomed

women who follow them. It was in mid-December at this same place (Peter Dillon’s),

you remember, friend, that an on-in took place but that hare set it up so each of us had

to order pints from a single waitress, and the cash ran out before we arrived, so we

found nourishment from a vacating Christmas party that granted us foodstuffs. But this

was different. It was a new start. Hell, it was A start.. All of us who assembled in front of

the place, with fresh $20s from nearby banking centers or ATMs, wore optimistic smiles

because we would be running away from this stinkhole rather than blindly arriving at it.

None of us had a smile to match ALD’s, though. She smiles so brightly, it makes some

of us a bit nervous. What secrets does she hold? Oh, she’s hashed in many exotic

hashes, many oceans away.. what African and Turkish influences await us? And who is

this assistant, this dark, beautiful man with ivory teeth? Raj?? So clever, ALD.. she out-

sourced the work to India.. and then in-sourced the Inidan. Welcome back, Raj!

The first leg of the trail was the typical stretches of straight-aways that mark Midtown

East. We gobbled up blocks like pitchers.. further and further South… and then a check

on 2nd Avenue.. and that is where this reporter (me) in hopes of cooling down, entered

the lobby of the big cinema. This transgression was not unnoticed, and would come

back to haunt me, but I ran on, unaware it’d be my final mileage as Just Matt.

Things got interesting near Madison Square Park, where an earlier omen that there’d be

a "kind of a circle thing" took kind of shape. As you know, the hasher’s imagination can

go on hyper-drive when it lacks stimulation or chalk marks. Several of us filled in the

blanks in our own way, forming a map with a circle in our heads and leading others onto

it in these real streets of summertime hectic leisure and tranquil after-hour business. A

hot dog guy, maybe, tipped one of us in the right direction, and that guy with the

handbills.. he communicated to another group in another way.. which headed another

way… and so they both were right and (what?) each of the groups met up somewhere

west of Broadway and were on-on. Did any of that makes sense? Well, basically,

Canine Fixation led a large group astray because he was certain he had special powers

of clairvoyance or getting lost.

The important thing: we were West. The mystery of this trail was that it traversed such a

wide lateral area, heading North by Northwest.. without the benefit of taking Broadway.

Somehow, we were on 9th Avenue by 8pm. We wet our beaks at a nice little city park

where poor people play. This was a nice stop because we got to rest a bit and joke

around and pet Lexi, the dog, who was running with Doctor Bruce. You’d think it’d be

Canine Fixation who’d mess with Lexi but no. Ow My Balls, who seldom outwardly

reveals jealousy and malice, stomped on the good doctor’s dog. Poor Lexi! Two other

hashers acted up a bit at a fountain shaped like a seal. Just Chris drank water out of its

mouth; and Type A .. well, he HURDLED the seal. You had to see it friend. You’d have

thought it was the Olympics, but see, that was weeks away at this point. Of course, all

three of these animal abusers would pay later .. in down-downs!

Another funny thing that happened on trail involved a beautiful part-time hasher, Just

Jenna. This leggy bombshell set off a commotion by knocking over a mother and child,

and their box of pizza. The child cried. Jenna picked up the box and handed it to the

woman. (Blondes do have more fun! ) Later, this interaction would earn her a down-

down and yet no one would point out any irony as she ate slices of post-circle pizza.

That really fit guy, Jersey Asshole, did some weird impromptu training session with

passersby. Not all strangers welcome his advances; a lesson he learns day in and day

out as a boorish train conductor.. and which we learn every Wednesday. Down Down!

Well gosh, the next thing you know we were eating up blocks again, as you do in

Midtown West.. oh by the way, I forgot we had ran through the High Line. It was pretty

exciting because people walk on it, and don’t expect a group of runners. So it’s very

exciting. It created the expected 1-2 : walker: ‘hey, what’s going on, you’re not

supposed…’ hasher: ‘heee heee… isn’t it nuts? join us, lol!‘

So we’re on this straightaway by the beautiful Hudson. The river is smiling.. and so we

should’ve known we’d see the Great Smiler.. ALD and Company, in the shadow of the

Intrepid Museum. The shuttle Enterprise was sheathed near the stern, ready for her big

debut the following week. We drank Gatorade and some liquor and watched the setting

sun. Oh what Glory! And then we ran to the On In. It was right near Port Authority, so it

was pretty scummy. We fit right in, all 40 of us tired, sweaty, time/space travelers,

welcomed by our Queen and the Bookkeeper, and the Indian, and pitchers pitchers

pitchers of beer. Oh, and there’s Lexi bringing up the rear. DFL for the very first time!

Welp, in dog years.. it was even a worse finish time. She drank water and was forgiven.

There was a full back room music area that, according to posters, has music every night

of the week. But not this night. The stage was used for other purposes.. During the

Circle, BJ n the Blowback manned the dormant drum set, adding some punch to the

punch lines. It really was a fine circle. Some people tried to ruin it by talking amongst

themselves. They were: Doggy Eructis, Crouching, Gabe the Babe. But on such a night,

when all is going well, and is placed in a great place.. well, a few chowder heads can’t

ruin that. Not when there’s a Naming. Oh yes. I, formerly Just Matt, was given a name

because I went into the movie theater. A wise hasher came up with the name "Matinee"

based on movies.. Great pun. But a more experienced hasher improved upon the name

by inserting a trailing "anus."

The hares were made to drink only as a toast, a salute to excellence. What a fine night.

Neither the trail nor on-in were Turkish influenced, and yet were full of delights; not

African inspired, but left us wanting Moor.

Even the newcomers fit right in. The Virgins were: Faye and Sam. Welcome!! Visitors

were: Raj, i1 tequila, 2 tequila, 3 tequila, whore, Just Jessica ; Snake Bite.

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