Well as I sit the morning after the Hash, shuffling papers from one side of the desk to the other in true British civil servant style, I can happily reflect on the fact that I am hangover-free, a rare occurrence on a summer Thursday morning. This is not to say that there was insufficient beer at the On-In Chez Puffy’s. Far from it. Indeed after some initial delays in pitcher pouring, the various brands of amber nectar flowed freely, and despite co-hare Melanie’s attempts at blackmail, this week’s guest scribe, realizing the importance of the onerous task placed upon her by the appointed scribe, David Croft, decided to take her job seriously and not quaff beer in her usual guzzling manner. So it is with a clear head that I am able to comment on last night’s Hash.
Personally speaking, I enjoyed Lisa and Melanie’s Hash, though some were heard to comment otherwise. Particular highlights for the scribe included the run through the projects where a red-veiled diva - obviously running the trail backwards - was shrieking No No to an already confused bunch of hashers. Another joy was admiring the scenic view of the Hudson river and the far-off twinkling lights of the Financial District as dusk settled. Indeed during the unofficial West Side Highway Half Marathon we had plenty of time to gaze at the now-not-so-far-off twinkling lights which in the end were something of a Godsend as dusk turned into pitch darkness and the green/pink/yellow chalked trail disappeared. Indeed, where was that Chicken/Eagle split? Any why, when they did find it, did the Chickens reach the On-In after the eagles? Something of an enigma.
Now when it comes to the checks I am not the best person to comment. I saw two while most of my other hashing sources seemed to see three. I assume there were more, but because of the dark, colored chalk etc., they remained invisible. However, the start itself resembled a check as it took a fair while and a lot of milling about before the initial cries of “On-On” were heard. The first official check at the Flatiron building was good and kept the pack somewhat together. The second one which I, for one, failed to see but which was apparently on 23rd street somewhere did not keep the pack together. A false trail was found and realizing that the true trail was obviously close by the FRBs set off at a blazing pace leaving the middle-pack hashers and virgins floundering. A third check at Abingdon Square was found by your loyal guest scribe, who would like to have backmarked but was chalkless, so continued unabashed on her merry way. At the World Financial Center, after the aforementioned West Side Highway Distance Run, the trail came to an abrupt end as the pathway round said edifice closed at dusk. Most sensible hashers continued straight ahead assuming the by-now barely visible chalk would reappear - as it did. Some masochistic hashers on the other had decided to zig zag round the blocks searching for the trail which may have accounted for their arrival at the On-In some 30 minutes later than everyone else.
Somewhere in this area, the FRBs once again lost the trail, but safe in the knowledge that Puffy’s has been and will probably continue to be a suitable On-In site, they continued in this general direction, once again picking up the trail which led them exactly to where they expected to be. Other hashers started arriving in small groups, some via the Chicken Trail and some via the Eagle, and one via a yellow cab. Steve Brett’s only comment to his having used other means of transportation to Puffy’s was to say that the On-In phone message had been "real clear".
The On-In started innocently enough but in true hashing style soon degenerated into pandemonium - a quite normal occurrence when 50 plus hashers descend on a bar big enough for 30. Ex-Joint Master AKA Barrow-Boy Burke soon set up his market stall in a quieter corner and began selling at a frenzied pace. Though this was in part due to the non-hashing couple sitting at the bar who bought most of his stock. Indeed on purchasing the world renown - and particularly relevant this evening - “Marriage - Just Say No”, shirt, the female was obviously making it clear to her companion that their relationship was doomed from this early stage. Lipstick Leslie spent the rest of the evening leaving an indelible mark on anyone who stood around long enough (though I did notice a long line of male hashers waiting around to receive a gratis snog). Indeed, Bo the Virgin was treating his lipstick kiss as something of a trophy, to be maintained in pristine condition for as long as possible so that his recently-ex-girlfriend would realize that he was neither pining nor indeed wasting much time finding a replacement. There was also a general hash chugging competition in which I, as scribe, decided not to participate but to adjudicate. As you can imagine, that was a total waste of my time as our champion chugger, co-hare Lisa, was the winner. Quel surprise! Anyway honorable mentions have to go to Curtis (dressed in civilians and resembling according to one hasher, a nicer version of Ralph Lauren’s "geek" model, whatever that looks like), and also to Mario making a rare guest appearance. I would also like to say how nice it was to see so many non-hashers there. Not everybody wants to run or swill beer (hard to believe I know) but I think we should welcome these people with open arms, and do our best to convince them of the error of their ways and convert them to the joys of hashing.
Thanks for a good (for me at least) trail, girls. On-Out.
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