BFM #17 - The Commando Hash
Posted on June 17, 2004
17 June 04: Less than a week after Philly’s DA dropped all charges against a Ben Franklin mobber wrongly accused of terrorism, the Ben Franklin Mob Hash House Harriers stormed through downtown Philly wearing camouflage paint and clothes. (Mensa we ain’t.)
It was the BFM’s Commando run, concocted to celebrate the BFM’s 17th week of life, and sadly to send off one of it’s own, Sarah Cunter, who would soon be moving to San Diego. As it was a Commando run, hashers were asked to show up “commando” style and to wear camouflage.
“Going Commando” means “without underwear.” And who said hashing isn’t educational? Freaks interested in the origin of the term can waste their time here.
So hashers from as far as DC arrived with faces slathered in camouflage paint and bodies covered in Army surplus, but with nothing underneath. Over forty hashers showed up – the nation’s first all-meathead platoon.
The mob assembled at McGillin’s, which is surely becoming the BFM’s favorite bar. After drinking several pitchers, the mob poured out the door into Drury Lane for a chalk talk given by Wolfman Jackoff, who co-hared the trail with Bastard Child. The hares’ loud and short talk got the mob all rowdy as it stumbled off to get on trail.
Trail was marked with orange flour, blue flour, and red tape. But all those markings did not prevent the mob from running into repeated cluster fucks. It spent a good ten minutes doubling back repeatedly, trying to navigate itself out of a two square block area near Philadelphia City Hall. (Orienteers we ain’t.) For its labors, the mob was rewarded with a tour of the aromatic maze of subway concourses and tunnels below the city streets. From time to time the mob came up for air, but much of the trail was underground
Soon enough the rain started, cooling and soaking everyone by the time we arrived at the beer check, hosted by Sly Fox in her Queen Village den. At the check, the mob presented Sarah with a chocolate cake, which said “Happy Birthday BFM, Good Luck Sarah.” She blew out the candles and the mob ate the cake.
Then the mob circled up to do a Commando check. Wolfman ordered everyone to inspect their neighbor on the left to see if, in fact, their neighbor was “going commando.” As the one privileged to inspect Sarah, I can report for the record that she was going commando. Given how thoroughly I inspected her, I’m surprised I’m not in traction.
By now the mob was all wet and drunk, and the beers were gone, so we went back to the trail, which didn’t survive the rain. After trying in vain to find trail, Sarah and Sly Fox decided to just start running back to the bar, yelling “on on” the whole way. Faced with the choice of trying to find trail or chasing two blondes making a beeline for the bar, the mob did what it had to do.
Back at McGillin’s, the bar owner opened up the upstairs private room for the circle. Religious advisor Wolfman Jackoff forced down downs on the auto hashers, virgins, visitors, and hapless civilians who just happened to walk into the room. Song-meister Scooby Snatch led the mob, which slurred along as best it could. Notable accusations included the outing of Sticky Fingers, who had opted against going commando. As it was Sarah’s last night, the entire mob got in the circle and let her sing a song solo. Mercifully, she sang, “This is your hashing song, it isn’t very long….” (Carnegie Hall it wasn’t.)
McGillin’s owner – a.k.a. the “owner-hasher” - joined the circle, though he did not drink since he was on duty. But he told us that he would be off-duty at the bar the next day, so he was looking forward to drinking “free beer tomorrow.” The mob seized on those three magic words immediately and slapped a hash name on the owner-hasher: “Free Beer Tomorrow.” The mob inducted him with a song, and Little Fucking Winkie did a proxy down down on Free Beer’s behalf.
And so in that way, with beer, rain, and camouflage, the BFM celebrated it’s 17th week on earth, and reluctantly gave Sarah Cunter a send off to sunny Southern Cali. She will be missed by all, but, like it says on the t-shirts she produced, “I’ll be back … for more beer.” We hope so.
We’re too legit to quit. On on.
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