Hash #443

3/06/05

in the Tremont neighborhood of Cleveland

Hare: The Mystery Hare with Broken Boner acting as his voice and body

There seems to be some confusion surrounding the Mystery Hare hash. I was contacted by the Mystery Hare via encrypted e-mail explaining that he was a big time hasher but was in deep cover. He hadn’t hashed since 9/11 when he was called back to his Black Ops job in Washington. Finding himself in Cleveland on some clandestine mission, but with some time on his hands, he decided to lay a hash trail but could not himself participate in the hash. Bummer. He at first instructed me to use the totally made up name of John Grizzlyamo as the advertised hare. I told him that was pretty stupid since nobody knows a John Grizzlyamo so no one would show up. He then looked at our web page and noticed that the name Biff Demcheck came up a lot but Biff never seemed to show up to actually hare. “Perfect” he wrote. “Lets use John Grizzlyamo and Biff Demcheck so at least some people would show up”. That sounded pretty good till I realized that someone was still going to have to give the chalk talk and it wasn’t going to be the Mystery hare because he could not reveal his identity. That’s when I got the wonderful idea of adding “the Mystery Hare” to the mix.

Come the day of the hash, I got to the Lincoln Park Inn and noticed some hash marks so I figured the Mystery guy hadn’t screwed me. He gave me his Mystery Hare hot line (216)931-1212 and instructed me to call when it came time for the chalk talk. He also instructed me to wear a GPS module which he would be able to monitor my, and hopefully the packs, movements with. The guy was a bit cheap as he instructed me to only have one beer stop. As you know, when I hare, I usually have 3 or 4 beer stops. I would have had the ON IN at the Lava Lounge where the yuppy locals swill $4 beers from a beer menu that spans several continents. But NO, he had the ON IN at Memories, or whatever that trashy bar was called.

I guess it wasn’t too bad of a trail and if the man of mystery e-mails me again, I might let him hare another.

A few of the most memorable things about the trail came out of the mouth of Ass Transit. The first thing was said just after we got to the ON IN. Ass Transit said the bar had a special place in his heart because when he was a kid, he saw his first dead guy laying out in front of the place. Someone got shot in the bar, staggered out the door and fell dead on the sidewalk. I guess Ass Transits a home boy from the neighborhood. The second was that steep down hill toward the steel mill, I think the name of the street is Holmden. Ass Transits father use to live in one of those houses. I wonder if he had one of those dogs on the roof? I’m sort of glad the ON IN broke up before the black birthday party got started. They may not have appreciated our birthday song of Happy Birthday Fuck You. We may not have been able to make it to the second verse before the shooting started.

So lets see, how did the trail go? Don’t ask me for the names of the streets, but I remember crossing the freeway on a pedestrian bridge, then scurrying up an embankment and ending up in somebodys back yard. Running to and fro through the side streets overlooking the steel mills and approaching The Clark Bar. Dick Long looked longingly at the establishment but there was no B in front of the place so we ran on. We ended up at the lone beer stop, a real neighborhood bar on West 11th whose name escapes me. I was told Ass Transit used it as a beer stop on one of his hashes?? Where was I?

So it was on out of the bar till we ended up on West 14th street and turned left on Holmden which is one of the steepest streets around, down down toward the steel mills and Quigley avenue. We ran a booring half mile straight and then a left toward the kennels and some parking lot where a slightly used condom was spotted by Organ Recital. We stood in admiration, then got the hell out of there. We came across the weirdest mark, an arrow pointing and the characters W14 next to it. I guess it meant to run to West 14th street, which we did, ignoring the other stupidly placed hash marks along the way. Turning left on W14, we made a bee-line toward the ON IN.

Squeeky Cheeks presided over the circle. We had a virgin coerced into hashing by Dick Long. Killer Byte admitted she hared run #13 in Cleveland. I guess she knew “The Other Woman” who was one of our Floundering Mothers. Chocolate Box showed but didn’t run. Squeeky Cheeks gave the lame excuse of a sprained ankle but I didn’t see him limp. He didn’t run either. Lorena made a rare appearance. I guess he wanted to know who the hell John Grizzlyamo was. Too Drunk didn’t get drunk at all so Rear Ender made up for that. Organ Recital did double Jack and Diet Coke down downs. She finished both of them in a half second flat. Ass Transit told us about the Boyz from da Hood. Dick Long must think it’s summer out because he had a short sleeve shirt on. Where are your hat and gloves Dick Long? The virgin is now HIR somebody or other and for the life of me, I can’t remember Killer Bytes friends name, but he came. Broken Boner, under directions of the Mystery Hare made everybody eat their own individual 12 slice pizza pie. I think we ended up giving 3 of them away.

After the hash broke up, a few of us went to some trashy neighborhood bar where we swilled a few more beers. Just then, the door opens and in walks Releash Me and her adoring husband, Commander Tighty Whitey. They wanted to eat. We were still trying to regurgitate our individual 12 slice pizza so eating didn’t sound so great. Then someone said they have BEER at Johnny Mangoes so Dick Long and I went along for the ride. Actually, I drove. Releash Me wanted to drive my Wrangler till she found out it was a stick so I drove and she navigated. Tighty and Dick Long were in the other vehicle. I guess the Pizza made it’s way through both large and small intestines because I ordered a shitload of food but only finished half of it. We were hoping Ranger Asshole would be there but we were told that he’d left an hour earlier but he left his broken down Volvo that he’s owned for about 19 years out in front of the Johnny Mangoes. His ride is on the fritz. We didn’t have a bow, but we did giftwrap his car.

The end.

b. boner