Evacuation Day Hash 2013 Edition

Date: Sunday, March 17, 2013
Hares: Yankee and Anal Disco(her virgin lay)
Start: Pearl Street Station
Beer Check: Sketchy alley
On-in: Under a bridge
Time: 2:30 HST

Total beers consumed: More than a few; less than enough.

Let me begin by saying, I always get a half-chub for a Yankee trail; denim and Marb Reds abound. CPA and Harlot were quick to echo this sentiment.

Against all conventional wisdom, the theme for trail on March 17th had absolutely nothing to do with St. Patrick’s Day. We instead celebrated Evacuation Day, one of many bullshit, made-up holidays allowing Bostonians to have the day off work and drink excessively. 

The Hash converged on the Pearl Street Station—a surprisingly classy prelube, perfectly juxtaposing the On-After—shortly before HST and the binging began in earnest. In an effort to overcome their hangovers, our faithful hares decided it best to begin the afternoon with alternating shitty beers and shots of whiskey. In hindsight, with the time afforded by the Great Bar Car Debacle of 2013, shots might’ve been aggressive.

After more than a few rounds, Titney Spewston saved the day and offered up bag-carring services. Wiki, the assumed bag car for the day, readily admitted his faults and offered to buy Titney about a million beers.

At opening circle, we met our Virgins, Johann and Jen, and almost talked them into showing body parts (so close). We learned that Yankee had made the executive decision to make it a Cajun trail. After confusing the shit out of the virgins and veterans alike with this news, pack was off.

The first leg of trail ran through only the classiest parts of Malden. There were—alleged—tit checks and the usual harriettes performed their civic duties. Yankee and Disco enticed the pack into a sketchy alley with promises of beer near. The beer check included plenty of Natty Ice and Busch Lite and a virgin FBI. Not surprisingly, amongst the men, Bro’s and Sweagle came first.

The second leg of trail included scenic strip malls, railroad tracks, and housing projects. Pack routinely chased false trails up hills, apparently forgetting who was haring. Ultimately, pack stumbled upon some flour on a set of abandoned train tracks. What was thought to be a second beer check was actually the On-In.

After some beer and pizza and beer, it was time to get circle underway. In no particular order, circle included the following:

1. The pack reminded the hares that they laid a S-H-I-T-T-Y-T-R-A-I-L.
2. We met our virgins and waited for them to each do something stupid or funny (still waiting…)
3. We met some out-of-towners who introduced us to the new unofficial PT2H3 theme song about small wieners and the disappointed women that ride them.
4. We discovered Mommy co-authored said small wiener song and decided she has a moral obligation to lead pack in song at the collective beckon-call of the Hash.
5. The RA ruined circle and put the announcements before the accusations. Dumbass.
6. We returned vessels long lost and learned that CPA can drink Bro’s under the table.
7. Hashers drank out of shoes. Against all logic, the virgin decided to borrow The Second Cuming’s shoe, that he has used for the past months to train (r*cist).
8. About a dozen hashers discussed their naked jaunt through Medford from the night prior.
9. An out-of-towner lost his keys on trail; they were recovered by a Boston hasher. Pack made sure to remind him that he was stupid, stupid, really fucking dumb.
10. Hares and Harriettes that coordinated their outfits prior to Trail were called on to drink.

Yankee introduced the Hash to The Squire Lounge which, thank Christ, showed up on my credit card statement as only 604 Café. Due to their willingness to show body parts, many of the staff at The Squire were inducted into the Hash. Never before has a group of hashers been so overdressed.

Your scribe, Blubber F*cker