'Twas a dark and stormy night ... oops, that was a Brooklyn run.

'Tis a far, far better thing that I do now, than I have ever ... oops, that will be a Queens run.

So what did happen the other night at the corner of 8 Ave and 14th Street?

Why ask me - I was only on the run. At the aprés some kind person invited me to write about it. Other hashes I may or may not have attended had the decency (and good sense) to identify a scribe before the event, thereby ensuring that a small number of gray cells are reserved in advance for said hasher to retain data pertinent to the run.

At around 19:00 twenty+ assorted individuals from the usual gang of suspects were seen stamping the pavement across from the Metro. Good thing f or the local population it was dark, certain hashers attire makes them readily certifiable, especially on such a brisk winter's night.

At some mystical moment after the appointed time (or is it when the big hand gets to Mickey's castle) the pack set off in an easterly direction, away from the killer turtles and aroma of fine Belgian frites drifting from the west.

From then on we zigzagged across a small portion of lower Manhattan, including tracts of the former village of Greenwich (no mean time was spent here), past the speakeasy of Bedford Street and on through the campus of NYU. It was here, while bisecting a small patch of what was likely once a Victory Garden, that some of us were verbally abused with a resounding 'keep off the grass', after which most took to the bitumen for the remainder of the trail.

The streets were lined with discarded Christmas trees, providing an opportunity for some leaping and frogging, with little sympathy for what was recently a center piece of the home and is now considered trash. Contrary to rumor, Christine did not bring any home with her.

But back to the trail... in such a compact geographic area it would have been easy to cross one's own path, or loop the loop as we almost did in Washington Square Park (a former potters field I am told) . But no, the Hares did an exemplary job keeping us on flour and chalk, holding the pack together through checks and false trails, and bringing us to, surprise, surprise, Lucy's 'Tavern on the Green' (or 135 Avenue A, Call 212-673-3824 for reservations on Valentine's Day).

Down-Downs were administered in short order by the ever jovial Danny, bar service ,was ably provided by Ms.  Mowbus, whose native tongue came to good use when requesting a change in the volume of Poland's Top Ten from nineteen canteen. To top it off, we dined on Polish Pizza ( ... or was that the cardboard case I chewed by mistake?). A number of civilians were spied dressed as runners, as well as the venerable Tim. They, along with a virgin - Tim (?) and assorted others helped ensure Budweiser retains it's claim as America's favorite mouthwash.

I'm told the party went on 'til the wee small hours, and that the pool tables were fully exercised by those remaining standing.

All in all, a fine evening, with all that makes for a truly great hash, viz. good beer and good company.

Thank you, Roy and Ewa.