Steamy Windows

As always, I arrive at the hash earlier than the hares. Why do I always do this? Especially in the wintertime – it’s not like the hash ever starts any earlier than 7:15pm. It’s just more opportunity to expose myself to this frigid weather and catch a cold.

This time when I arrive, though, there are no arrows directing to the start location. I run into Just Rob, fortunately, and he is actually prepared since he has read the directions from the email. He walks with Cum Dumpling and I to the park on 41^st St. And look who’s here already! It’s Chicken F*cker and Just Shane. They’ve driven to the hash and have an excellent parking spot. While those two are busy packing stuff away in their trunk, I go investigate the park to see where the hares are and Cum Dumpling returns to the metro station to chalk the sidewalks to the start. When I return after unsuccessfully locating any hares, Chicken F*cker and JS have disappeared.

I ask JR, “Where’d they go?”
“Oh, they’re in the car.”
“Where? I don’t see them sitting in there.”
“Maybe they have the seats reclined all the way back. I’m sure I saw them get in the car.”

Well, I certainly have no shame and I certainly have an insatiable curiosity, so I just walk up to those steamed-up car windows and bang on their car windows.

“What are you two doing in there? Knock it off!”

They’re pretty startled, to say the least, and they DO have their seats reclined all the way back. I won’t reveal what they were up to, though – just let your imagination run wild! Of course, I also submit their names to the scribe for a violation. This one is too good to pass up! Besides, JS has never been violated before – she’s overdue!

I have to say that this hash certainly took a long time to get started. The hares are late cause they don’t arrive until 6:50pm and then we have to stand around until 7:20 to wait for Nasty Gash to arrive with the regulators for the kegs. Why aren’t those things kept in the beer van? I did hear through the rumor mill that Shamrock took the mirror off a passing car when she opened the door to the beer van. Can anyone confirm? That would have been a riot to watch!

Cock-a-Doodle-Do-Me is at it again this week with her flashlight. She’s pretending she’s some commando or some such by hitting people with her flashlight beam. Remind me to get her a laser pointer for Christmas. That will be more effective in “attacking” people harmlessly.

Kill the hares! Who’s idea was it to use baby blue flour during the wintertime? I can’t tell the difference between the snow and the flour. No wonder a large group of us get lost on trail! And then the hares paint an ON-ON on the side of a tree at the top of a hill diagonal to the check and way off the sidewalks? People! You do know that we are hashing at night, right??

All complaints aside, we have another naming tonight. O-beast-iologist’s friend that told the stories about the fat chicks last week, gets named Stairway to Hymen cause of his preference for meeting sloppy seconds on rowhouse stoops. He could have been named Stairway to HIV, but the females must have taken sympathy on him. You’re darn lucky, dude! Could’ve been worse…

Since it’s totally frigid outside, the circle finishes up quickly and we haul a$ over to the Dancing Crab. I change into a brand-new pair of jeans. Now before I packed my hash bag this morning, I removed all the paper tags off my jeans, but I forgot about the clear plastic label that runs up and down the pant leg. Halfway through the evening, I’m talking to OFE and look down at my pant leg and realize I’ve been walking around with a 14 Long label all night. I pull it off, but before I can trash it, OFE takes the 14 Long label from me and tapes it across his crotch (which he forgot to zip shut, incidentally). Whatcha trying to say, man? You need to advertise?