In a conversation with a friend about the happenings in my life, the subject of the Hash arose (as it always seems to do, but what should we expect when the only things we do more often are sleep and, in most cases, work). After regaling him with tales of our motley crowd and expounding the virtues of the Hash, he seemed convinced that this was an activity he had to try. However, his final comment caused some worry: "So, basically, the Hash is really just a reason for a bunch of guys (people) to get together twice a week and get Fucked Up, right?" Is this really the impression people have of us? Is this the true, underlying basis behind the Hash? Is the only purpose of our Hashes to get to the drinking? Am I going to continue asking questions while all you really want to do is see if your name is in here and then finish that beer you're holding?
This conversation happened Wednesday before the Full Moon Hash, so it was fresh on my mind as I jogged into Columbus Circle. I had asked Elaine and Yoshi to watch for me coming in late to the start since I had a celebration to attend earlier that evening. As it turned out, I was able to shlog (jog with a full belly of beer sloshing around) from the East Side to the West in much less time than expected. [ Of course, being at this celebration and drinking BEFORE Hashing kind of through my perspective on the imposing questions askew. ]
Arriving in Columbus Circle, I found a band of roughly 15 hashers milling around waiting to start. After stripping down to shorts, much to the delight of our Hairess (ok... so there were a BUNCH of us doing it, but I swear she was hooting for me!), I realized who set the trail: Elaine, a virgin hare, so make sure to bring a quarter because the trail will be poorly marked; and Yoshi, so make sure to bring a token because we'll probably be running all over creation and get lost at the farthest point possible from the On-In. (Thanks for the quarter, Jerry.) Two surprises at the start: Allison and Jenny, ready to run! As Yoshi gave instructions, we took notice of a blur of red as Allison streaked off into the distance. We all gave chase and almost ran over Leslie Lips who came in late. Heading off down 6th Ave, we quickly lost the trail at 53rd St. Rick and I took off to find it, me heading to 5th Ave and down to 47th. Upon finding nothing, I circled back to 6th and found a bunch of hashers turning toward 7th Ave, following a trail mark already marked False. Who was leading them? Our esteemed jackrabbit, Allison! Just shows that Fate can be cruel. Backtracking towards Radio City, I found the check and more Hashers.
We sent Rick off to find trail to the East (in case I had missed something) and Crofty to the North, for a back check. When neither re-appeared, we knew something was amiss. Looking around we realized that Julio Iglesias was performing that night and our riddle was solved. In nine-part cacophony, we broke out into "To all the Trails we've Lost Before". This lasted for about 6 seconds. The culprit of our plight was revealed later by Jenny who informed Jerry and I that Ciderman had solved the check (a backcheck it turned out), but decided that he was "too far" from the check to go back and mark it. Did he forget that this was a Yoshi trail and 3 blocks was nothing compared to what still lay ahead? Or was he using the giddiness of his treachery to propel him along? My guess is the latter. Roughly fifteen minutes after arriving at the check, we found Croft's pack marks and set off west, and west, and west some more. A check at 10th(?)brought our group together again. Like Apollo and Starbuck leading a ragtag fleet on a long and lonely quest, Allison and I took off North hoping the On-In wasn't too far away. Past the Big Apple Circus and Lincoln Center, the trail continued north, and north, and north again. A quick jaunt to the West was not quite enough to break the hypnotic spell of block after block in the same direction. Allison and I even, at one point, missed a turn West and continued plodding ever northward. Only when the marks reappeared did we realize that we had been off-trail. Having spent a lot of time in my youth on the Upper West Side, checking the bars was a breeze. However, the Hares had pulled a quick one on us and used a restaurant instead of a bar as the On-In.
Entering Jackson Hole, we were pointed to the rear of the establishment and herded into what must, on every other day, be the restaurant's coat closet. The beer was already being served as the first group had been in for about 15 minutes already. The rest of the pack trickled in, all there within 1/2 hour of each other. Yoshi has obviously learned from other's past mistakes as he let us know immediately that this was a "Time Deal: All we can drink until 11 PM".
Many thought that sounded like a challenge and we had no fear about getting our money's worth. The food was ready and Down-Downs were quickly given out. Jerry, once again, provided voice in the absence of any higher officers (supposedly the scribe should not also preside over the ceremonies. Hmmm.... ) First to Yoshi, Elaine, and Beth as Hares. Beth got a second, but whether it was for her civilian clothes or her ability to distract Elaine from laying down marks while setting the trail, I'm not too sure. Jenny got one for showing up and letting us know that we still have one Nanny/Diva in our presence. Crofty had just aged a bit more ungracefully, so his toast was next. When Jerry led the wrong song, Croft was asked to down a second (or was that just so he could forget what the next birthday is?). Mr. Dubai was a visitor and a Full Moon virgin, and upon getting to the pulpit, once again explained his desire to find a NY Hash shirt.
Around 9 PM, we were suddenly invaded with an influx of guests. Fiji showed up with a gaggle of women in tow and various others wafted in. A word of warning to smokers in our crowd: certain hashers are getting quite mean and militant about "no smoking". I can understand that the room was small and crowded, but please do not scare away our visitors (especially if they are fun and good looking :-}). As the "witching hour" of 11 neared, talk circulated of an On-On-In at the Firehouse, across the street. Since the beer at the On-In was very good and we had no idea what was on tap across the street, Mr. Croft decided to insure our taste pleasure by taking a pitcher with him. Upon being stopped at the door of Jackson Hole, his supposed response was "There's a woman behind this." [Can someone explain why it's always these Brits getting us into trouble?] The Firehouse knows that Hash ever since a memorable (partially) lunar eclipse pub crawl began there last year. Whether they were happy to see us again or not, we never did find out. The waitress definitely thought we were amusing, as long as we kept buying pitchers (turns out David's pitcher wasn't needed.. they had plenty of decent beer on tap). Things turn hazy here. My friend Joey had turned up, and Yoshi, Tom Church, and Leslie all disappeared.
Sometime, much later, after dancing on tables (a Full Moon tradition), drinking much drink, spilling some drink (sorry Beth), the crowd thinned out. Rick left with two women (each arm was cold, I guess), and Croft, myself, Elaine and Joey closed another glorious Hash. Not bad to have a Joint Master, a Hare, a Scribe, and a potential Hasher to anchor the nights festivities.
Have you found the answers to the original questions, yet? Are we just a bunch of drunkards with no real social lives? Or is there a greater purpose? Have we learned anything from this night? Of course we did. We learned: (a) that once a month we DO like to get plastered, but only on Fridays; (b) that virgins cannot lay good trails, and cohares should run WITH the virgin hare to correct that problem; (c) the Elaine knows how to party and throws a damn fine On-In; and (d) that you should never trust anyone who enjoys Cider to lead you to beer!
On Out
On-Sec's Note: Mike being critical of the hares setting a long trail. Hmmmm... "Hello, Kettle? It's the Pot calling. You're Black."