So there I was, parked on Beach Street, or in front of Penn Treaty Park, watching all the tweekers going in and out of the park getting their fix on, cold be damned. I sat there waiting for Just Andrew to arrive as I was to accompany him on his virgin haring trail and I thought to myself, "What kind of degenerates are so desperate to get their fix on that they would come out here in 15 degree weather?" So Just Andrew arrived with beer in tow and I got out of my car wearing my hippo (most dangerous and deadly animal on land and fresh water) onsie and we darted off to Druid's about a mile away. With our lungs freezing we burst into the bar to be greeted by:
Knights of the a Pound Table
Roadside ASSistance
Sphincter Grease
Not In My Hair
Seaman on the Poop Deck
and Magically Delicious (WHO WAS ALSO IN A HIPPO ONSIE...THE MOST DANGEROUS AND DEADLY ANIMAL ON LAND AND FRESH WATER)
The pack was small, but they were determined to brave the cold as they held out battle certs like, "It's only going to be one block, right?" This is the hash, what do you think will happen. But considering that Just Andrew had already established that the BEER near would be about a mile away, and the fact that it was already 8:02pm when we rolled into the bar and chalk talk marks still hadn't been laid yet, it was already our intention to make trail as simple as possible. So out the door we went and I helped Just Andrew to put down for chalk talk so that next time he hared he would be equipped with all the necessary tools...WE NEED TO GROOM THE FUTURE HARES, PEOPLE! A well informed hare is a happy hare and a happy hare lays a fun trail.
Once chalk talk laid we started to head out but were greeted by two of the sexiest warm bodies we could possibly want to encounter after standing on the cold street for five minutes:
Judge Doody
Music To My Tears (MT2)
So we warmed up with some wonderful hugs and then sent them into the bar and while we scampered off to lay trail. Did i mention that it was like stupid cold out? Again, for the record, I wanted to just head on what would be essentially a bee line to the cars and then sit in the cars and warm up and wait for the pack to arrive. It was a good plan. It was a warm plan. It was a plan I could very happily rest my head in a warm bed with later that night and not lose an ounce of sleep. Just Andrew on the other hand was easily distracted by the lights and glam of Philly's hottest neighborhood of NOLIBS. So we laid check after check and wandered around after lights and down alleys and past music venues until we found ourselves in Fishtown and were already well above the one mile back to the car. Again, I blame Just Andrew for all of this. The sicko seemed to get invigorated by the cold. He is a sadist I tell you. As we kept going further west, away from the BEER in the cars over by Penn Treaty Park, I tried to remind Just Andrew that for every mile we lay, the pack is doing 1.2 miles of trail having to search up and down streets for marks. So Just Andrew begrudgingly agreed to head back to the cars and wait for the pack to arrive.
So we turned on the cars and waited...and waited...and waited. This is something I want to point out to all of you potential hares. All you really need is about a five minute head start ahead of the pack to lay trail. Much of the trail that Just Andrew and I layed that night was walked. That is because the pack also has to go over the chalk talk marks and they have to actually solve the checks and sing the song checks. So if you leave out too early you will be waiting at the BEER near forever for the pack to arrive. But fuck it, what did I care? We were in a warm car chit chatting and drinking BEER. The pack could freeze for all I cared (oh the pleasures of being the hares).
So Just Andrew and I mused over live while we waited and watched the crackcraniums (CRANIUMS? WHO SAID CRANIUMS?) go in and out of the frigid park until one of those degenerates looked oddly familiar. It was:
Groundhog Lay
He finally arrived from another trip to some other place where he was again spreading his legend of being amazing for all those to enjoy. The rest of the pack followed him into the park, ignoring Just Andrew and I as we honked the horn and blinked the lights, until we decided those assholes won't get the hint until we get out of the warm car and brave the sub arctic temperatures and yelled, "Hey assholes, the BEER is over here!" So eventually they wandered their way over and we all partook of the frosty brew out of the back of Just Andrew's minivan. It was noted that the BEER which was in a cooler all day in the cold in the back of the car was actually warm. I guess the cooler had prevented the cold temperatures to penetrate through to the cans. But that was OK, because about five minutes later the BEERs in our hands actually got colder as we drank them. SCIENCE! So we had some conversations about how at least we weren't in Milwaukee and some other really inappropriate stuff which eventually ended up in people rubbing up and down on each other "to keep warm" until it was finally decided that we were driving everyone back to the bar because fuck this cold in its eye hole. Despite having only 12 people to shuttle in the car we drove off thumbing our nose at common hash ettiquette which requires at least 14 people to be wedged into a car before leaving.