Cold and icy does not begin to describe this r*n. Retardedly cold and
icy, maybe. I use the term “retarded” because that’s what I must
have been for allowing the call of beer and holiday treats to get me
to toss good judgment aside and head out to Brooklyn. I headed to the
L train with visions of fresh eggnog and cookies dancing in my head,
and hoped that C*ntcake wasn’t just teasing when those emails were
sent out.
The small pack that arrived at
station until start began rather than go up and freeze their asses
off. While perfectly sensible, this caused the hares to almost leave
and go get drunk instead of giving the chalk talk. Eventually, the
desire for alcohol consumption overwhelmed the group, and, like
groundhogs, the pack emerged to the surface, much to the hares’
chagrin.
The hares gave a brief outline (warning) of the trail before sending
the pack off. Seeing as how there were still large swaths of ice
covering the ground, the pack was forced to cautiously traipse from
one corner to another looking for nigh invisible pink marks on
whatever exposed concrete there was. The hares later insisted that
those marks stood out better in the small patches on concrete
available but the pack concluded that they were full of sh*t.
Thankfully, the trail was a short jaunt through Greenpoint though it
somehow managed to avoid all cleared sidewalks and dash through at
least one construction site.
The hares, rather than the chalk, pointed us to the drink check,
nestled next to yet another construction site, back in
We were led to C*ntcake’s apartment where she served us her special
homemade eggnog (and no doubt allowed them to pet her kitty, er kitties –ed). It had been in her fridge a year but she didn’t tell
us that until we had all imbibed. Unfortunately, Dogface did not
arrive in time to partake due to his walking the trail along with
unintentional sabotage*. Sufficiently warmed up, we left and ran the
short distance to the on-in, the R-bar, where the festivities
continued.
Although the hash was done London-style, a little cash went a long way
as we arrived in time for 2-for-1 specials. In addition, C*ntcake,
struck by the spirit of giving, treated us to a holiday gift of pizza
and delicious home-baked Christmas cookies (these were not aged like
the eggnog). Some late comers trickled in, and the circle commenced. A
possible incomplete list of down-downs awarded is as follows:
– Hares C*ntcake and Dan for the aforementioned sh*tty markings.
– Dan and Alex for being
– *Hedgehog for laying down wrong pack marks that Dogface got to enjoy.
– Marie for waiting at the wrong entrance at
– Dogface for attempting to inject some political correctness into the circle.
– Greg the bartender for having to put up with people with too little
goddamn common sense to stay in for the night.
The on-in more than made up for the sh*tty trail, which in all honesty
wasn’t that bad considering the situation. I’m not sure who stayed
until when, but I headed to the sorta nearby L train, warmed by the
flowing, cheap, delicious beer, with visions of naked
dancing in my head.
On-out,
Canine Fixation