March 6, 2000 Run#191
Hare: Michael "Slow to Blow" and Elaine (there is only one!)
Start: 7th Ave. and 8th Street
On-In: Harry Boland's, 9th St. near 5th Ave.
Scribe: Fluffy Lockerman
How can I do it, rather, how could I do it, or still more politically correct, how did I do it? No, we are not talking about getting an NYCH3 Joint Master to go to an Interhash, but how I can write up a hash that I did not run.
Well, I was at the On-In when the FRBs arrived and since I was working in the area that night I could have been lurking nearby on a long lunch break, paralleling the hare just out of sight, as he set his live trail. (Ok, I'm sure several female hashers that will say that they've seen me regularly do the hash-stalk thing to them.) But I feel justified writing this run up because my on-sec idol DB2 used to do such things as NYCH3 scribe, and so shall I.
STB claimed to have only set one check ahead of time, the one in front of his old boyhood home, where he wrote on the sidewalk for runners to look up (and see what, his adolescent image doing any number of "Slow-to" things in the window?) Come to think of it, why did he set that particular check ahead of time, was he afraid he would forget where his old homestead was in the excitement of setting a live trail? He only set a couple more checks, which actually weren't considered to be that bad.
Listening to arriving hashers I was impressed by two things: one, it didn't take forever to run STB's live trail, and two, it wasn't a badly marked trail. As he made sort of a counterclockwise circle through his Windsor Terrace homeland and looped his way to the on-in with a few hyperbolas along the way, the only place where the pack got separated was near the Parade Grounds, which actually makes historical, philosophical, and political sense, as this is where the battle of the separation of church and state is lost, with Bishop Ford High School using the Parade Grounds to practice football, tax free. (I guess you can't deny them trying to prove their masculinity, as they probably have priests and nuns, brothers, and sisters chasing them with cat-o-nine tails daily trying to get them to deny themselves everything else.)
Since I was on lunch break from work, Spiritual Advisor Snake Bite helped the Cardinal preside over down-downs. S.A. Snake Bite advised me that Bud was actually not beer, and that it would actually be within BH3 and BL2 guidelines for me to do a Bud down-down during lunch. Like a Hunter Thompson scene out of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas I took the advice of my counsel.
Down-downs went smoothly, with a group of between 12 and 20 hashers, my favorite Monday night number. I stayed to eat pizza, with only a few major memories of the evening: 1) Stephen ranting about why the writeup he took a month to write wasn't there, along with the writeup of the hash he previously set; 2) Lara was actually in attendance (minus you know who) and seemingly enjoying herself; 3) Keith was totally curious about why I had to leave so early and was thoroughly bemused when I explained I was on lunch break; 4) Pierre thought it was a great bar but wanted to know why there weren't any single women there (who, like Methodist M.D.s?); 5) Joyce was almost an FRB.
Michael, you have to try this live thing again, and this time I will run it.
Note to Elaine: Though STB did do a good job on his live hare efforts, I don't blame you for keeping your role as "just helping with the bags," it's always safer that way.
[On-sec's note: Fluffy is the clear frontrunner for the "Most Consecutive Run-on Sentences" award. I interrupted with a couple of commas and closing parentheses only to keep my mind from spinning completely out of control while reading/deciphering his handwritten writeup.]
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