NYCH3

Date:  Wednesday, June 7, 2000
Hares: Mike Andonov and Anne Marie
Start: Columbus Circle entrance to Central Park
On-In: Dive Bar (95th & Amsterdam)
Guest Scribe:  Chris Rust

It was a marvelous night for a hash.  Whatever powers that be you pagans worship, Bud Man probably, were gracious to us and opened up the sky, moved the clouds away, and stopped the rain for a most triumphant run.  A good-sized crowd milled around Columbus Circle anxiously awaiting the arrival of our hares, Slo2Blo and Anne Marie.  We certainly were fortunate to have the beautiful, young, intelligent, and above all, athletic Marie Wickham almost join us for the run, but as we got started, she disappeared back into the park saying something about a date with some guy Al Green.  Peter, trying not to look like a big dork, tried to wrap up his palm pilot in a spare shirt and stuff it into his bag unnoticed, but nothing can escape the eyes of all the sharp hounds.   About ten after seven, Mike and Anne Marie finally showed and tried explain the rules and markings of the hash to a couple of virgins, but obviously they weren't clear enough, since they never made it to the on-in. Come to think of it, I didn't see them at any point during the run either.  Thankfully, there were no self-appointed park rangers to yell at Mike for writing chalk marks on the sidewalk. 

The start was actually at 59th St., so down CPS we all started.  As expected, Dave Hardy and Idaho Sue took the lead right away.  After the first check, somewhere in the high 70's/low 80's, the trail took off north, Dave and Sue took off west, and Pat and I led the pack north for a while, past Pat's apartment building, and west towards Mike's favorite hash spot, Riverside Park.  Up and around, up and around, up around we went, up stairs and hills and trails in the park.  A couple checks kept us on our toes, but basically, someone could have just run the whole length of the paved road along the river, and beaten everyone to the boat ramp that we ran down to get out of the park and up to the unknown tomb, the one that is not Grant's, landmark. 

A few people did notice Danny taking a quick swim out in the river to bludgeon a seal to death, and then swim back in and get right back on trail.  A check at the top of the stairs sent us in all the wrong directions.  Scott took off south and found a false (it seems Scott goes in the wrong direction, especially Left, in a lot of things he does); I wandered in circles for a while, then decided to try east up 88th and found another false.  Surprise surprise, the trail picked up again...in the park along the river.  By this time, the pack was spread pretty thin, and once again, Ewa was the old faithful runner, plugging along, the rock which all lost hashers can find their way back on trail.  Up a nice little hill we went, and then up to a wall and iron fence which needed to be climbed to continue the trail.  Most people were up for the challenge and scurried right up, others went down the trail a bit further where it was easier to just step right over the fence, and I, being the noble gentleman, stayed at the top for a while to help lift anyone up the wall and over the fence who might need it.  Finally, the trail headed east, and then south.  A check at Columbus Ave., and no pack marks left to give us back of the packers a hint could have been time consuming, but a mother and her two kids saw some of us looking dazed and confused and told us that "some runners just ran that way [south]."  East down one of the low 90 streets, north up Amsterdam, and here we are at the Dive Bar.

There was a good local crowd in the bar for a Wednesday night, so glassware was a bit sparse.  Beer was plentiful right from the moment you walked in, thanks to good organization by the hares.  Latecomers started to trickle in, such superstars like Rick, Dave Long, Josh, etc.  The perfect fare was served after a nice healthy four to five mile run, mind you without saying/singing grace/Monks to which Roy commented "the more things change, the more they should stay the same,” crappy FRIED cheese sticks, chicken wings, and chicken fingers (FYI:  Chickens don't have fingers). 

Ceremonies got under way with Roy and Peter standing on the bench near the pool table.  The first down-down of course went to the hares for a sucky trail of medium length.  Two lovely ladies, Fiona and Christine, were next for their new shoes.  Fiona almost took her down-down with her hat on, but noble Christine, at the last moment, did her a solid and knocked it off before the cup reached her lips.  And for that effort, Christine got another down-down, joined by another noble person, yours truly, for being the gentleman at the wall.  Josh got a bellboy down down for showing up late to the start and having to run with his bag.  Ears were awarded to fleet footed John O'Connor, who was trying to keep out of sight with his girlfriend/mistress in the corner so that no one would tell his fiancée.  The plunger award came with a stern warning for all by J.M. Peter, since it was the fourth plunger we've had to buy since irresponsible people have insisted on breaking or losing it recently, Abner Louima...enough said (Ed. note: more plungers equal less beer!!).   And the big winner for the plunger this week, Dave Long for being the only girl to be almost an hour late to the start because he had to go to his yoga class that same night. 

The night continued on in the usual fashion, good conversation, a few scraps of food left to gnaw at, and plenty of beer.  Pat was extremely persistent hocking the hash t-shirts, and pontificating on what other things we might want to buy in the future, hash gloves, hash ties, hash martini sets, hash cigar humidors, Nike Air Short Cutting Bastards, etc.  At 10:25, wise man Crofty did two things; he made an observation and a prediction.  The observation was that at that moment, Crusty (me) insisted on lifting up his shirt so that some bar patrons taking pictures could get one of his nipple ring, and the prediction was that the starry eyed, Christine, would be the last of us to leave the bar that night (Ed. note: And what makes that different from any other on-in?? CH) It seems Christine was over in her own little zone of the bar hitting on some non-hash guy she picked up.   She nearly slipped right off her barstool chatting away with this dude. (Ed note: J J J CH)  Now I that I think of it, this is probably the reason why she shirked her responsibility and had me do this write up. 

A few non-runners like Michele and Heather (Ed: Heather who? HM) came in extra fashionably late to join the party in their work attire.  Rebecca was another lazy late-comer to the bar who strategically waited until the end of the night when all of the men would have drank quite a lot of beer and she would have better luck convincing one to marry her so she could stay here.   And with that, the night rocked on.  All in all, I must say it was one hell of a night starting with an excellent run by two great hares, followed by excellent amounts of beer, excellent entertainment, and of course, excellent company.   Please allow me to now plug the upcoming NYH3 4th of July Romp in Casperkill ($40 hash cash for an entire week-end of debauchery), and my own NHY3 run coming up on July 17 in Port Chester.  Check your local H3 website for links and details. 

On-out.