It was an extremely cold, wet, windy, dreary post holiday night as I stumbled
about the start, trying to remember how many million exits there were to the
two adjoined subway stops. Right when I didn't think it could get any more forlorn,
I spotted Sucks, or rather, in his otherworldly fashion, he spotted me. I wisely
refused to get in his car, but chose to stumble on in the dark and rain until
I saw Stacie marking all the exits, explaining she had specifically said which
stop it was on the Web and Hotline. An ominous start to be sure.
Everyone was of course huddled downstairs in the subway station, when the hares
finally tried to coax us out, with Janet saying if it was miserable for us to
run, think what is was like for them to set. Gee, Thanks. Then there was some
discussion, after my prompting, as to who actually had wanted to set a longer
trail and who tried to scale it down. Strangely enough, after we got started,
the rain almost stopped. Then all we had to deal with was the trail.
Knowing that this was Stacie's first stomping grounds when she came to Brooklyn
(And to think she stayed?!), I expected to be confused running around some nondescript
areas of Mid-Williamsburg(I just made that term up) & either end up at the Pour
House, or possibly a Greenpoint bar, though that was a long shot.
The hares didn't disappoint me, as I grabbed my puffer, gasping for clean air
in the early Williamsburg evening, I remember everyone disappearing at a check
that Hedgehog would later claim he had been yelling at the corner the entire
time. At this point I was confused, as was John and Paul and David and Eva and
Ringo(?). A small contingent had forged ahead and somehow found there way through
the darkness. By this time we had already circled the PH bar twice, running
right by it without seeing an on-in sign. Now I wondered. Paul cried out desperately
" Jerry, Where do you think we are going?"
I replied I didn't know, that Stacie was now a resident of Greenpoint and that
perhaps we would end up guzzling Corona and Reingold with our Polish brethren.
Then , we headed south , and the next thing I knew we were on the north side
of McCarren Park , AT A CHECK!!! NO, No, no, we couldn't be heading allthe way
back down to those same bars we always go to on a cold and rainy night like
this. And how could my faithful On-Sec disappoint me after she suffered Co-Haring
all those runs with me, and I shared all my trail setting tricks with her, in
between ranting and raving. How could she !!!!!
Ah, but all was not lost . We had but a short run south to the Turkey bar, that
I had long since wanted to use, particularly since Stacie and I stumbled in
there late one night after a Hash and found they had cheap Fosters and at least
7 or 8 patrons who were sane, or at least probably were if they were sober.
There was plenty of Brooklyn beer to go around, partly because of an earlier
NYCH3 ON-IN where Fireman Bob kissed everything from Ed's ass to Michele's cleavage-Now
that's range for you. There was also plenty of pizza, but the cold night did
keep away all the civilians. The last thing I remember in detail was John having
an intense discussion with Peter about gears and breaks. Hopefully they were
talking about bicycles.