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Run No:- |
1065 |
Date:- 18 August 2003 |
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Location:- |
Central Post Office, Charoen Krung Road |
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Hare:- |
Alastair 'Beefeater' Atkinson |
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Scribes:- |
Mike Rust and George Morgan |
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The Run . . .
Almost 25 souls gathered at the office of General Post a large granite-like
(AKM note the hyphen) structure at the foot of Surawongse. Take 5 baht with
you we were told. Yes you've guessed the run was across the river. A repeat
of a Nontaburi run I was told later. The run took us along some alleys on
the city side of the river before crossing at the Oriental pier. 2 Baht. The
run then crisscrossed the small streets and klongs on the opposite side
before leading us at a snails pace through the market near the home of the
Italian Stallion. 1 ½ baht.
Highlights of the run included: a check near a funfair / midway with music so loud no one could hear the call, On On; some of the largest piles of Khee Ma ever seen; a piece of orchardlike terrain amazingly in the city and a long smelly klong which Andrew tried twice to dive into. For those who were there, however, the thing for which the night will be remembered was the POW.
Prick of the week was awarded in usual Monday style to the cutest looking piece of skirt in the circle. Except of course when there isn't any and then it goes to Spinning Dwarf. I digress. Raspberry Nipple (oops, Freudian slip) Raspberry Ripple a visitor from Romania was the "eventual" winner. After donning the attachment RR gave us, a not soon to be forgotten, demonstration of her gymnastic abilities. As apparently did a recent visitor to Beefeater's shag palace but again I digress.
Raspberry Ripple performed a very elegant headstand wearing the attachment, showing of not only her trim figure but also the testicle on the POW, which hitherto have mainly gone unnoticed. This display invoked a joke from AKM about how he would look with a beard. Sorry you had to be there! George of the Jungle will explain the On On On probably in better prose than this. Unless he also writes it with a hang over. On On, Scribe: Love Canal
The OnOnOn. . .
The OnOnOn was held in an unassuming and frequently overlooked spot which had been uncovered by the hare during his painstaking searching to find a hostelry capable hosting a respast worthy of the hash gourmets. The venue was so well concealed that even detailed directions were insufficient for most hashers following their post ambulatory indulgence. So Beefeater diligently stationed himself at the entrance of the hostelry's courtyard to guide in the diners. This served a double purpose, also ensuring that the faint hearted did not have second thoughts on spying the large rats scurrying through the rats scurrying over the piles of ordures and rotting leftovers in the courtyard of the Woodlands Inn, a specialist in Sub-Continental delicacies. The savvy Woodlands management are also pioneers in another area of the hospitality industry incorporating special architectural features introduced by BMH3's own Mini, as evidenced by the sign outside promoting "Ministays" for only 300 baht.
Wires appeared crossed early on in the meal when a harassed looking waiter was seen to unloading large bottles of water onto the table but this was soon rectified by the diners' aghast cries of, "Beer not water, rew rew". Soon 20 bottles of chilled Heinecken appeared on the table and the number turned out to be significant. Then some pickled shallots, coloured crimson with vegetable dye (small red onions or hua horm daeng) appeared. Most hashers ignored this garnish at first but after another 15minutes had transpired with nothing more substantial appearing on the tables, hungry hands, soon to be stained crimson, started groping for the pickled onions and wolfing them down. They say that hunger is the best source and those pickled onions sure tasted good. After a further wait some very greasy papadoms appeared on the table and these also disappeared along with the rest of the dyed onions. Then some equally greasy naan bread was produced awash with melted butter and whole cloves of garlic. The GM did as best he could to wipe the butter off the naans with a napkin but uttered a series of oaths when he discovered several cloves of garlic attached to the underside of his naan. This was a clear sign of unacceptable pretentiousness on the part of the Woodlands chef in attempting to adapt the European concept of garlic bread to Indian naan to add to the fact that the GM is a firm believer in the British culinary principle of meat and two veg as best exemplified by British army chefs. Your scribe, on the other hand, a man of distinctly more sophisticated tastes, is a lover of garlic and thought the naan might be edible after a good wipe with the napkin. He, nevertheless, nearly wretched after only one mouthful of the foul, greasy object.
In response to the uproar coming from the vicinity of the GM some more naans were eventually produced which were just very greasy but had no cloves of garlic attached. Noriega was seen stuffing several of them into his bag declaring that these were just what were needed to give his chain a good lube for the next bike hash. Finally some naans came with neither garlic nor lube oil and turned out be disappointingly doughy and insipid after the long wait. At some point some vegetable, mutton and chicken dishes appeared. Your scribe would love to venture an opinion on these dishes but due to the paucity of them and the scribe's unfortunate location in between two service points most of them were empty by the time they reached him. This triggered an unhappy reminiscence of his early days at boarding school when the only dishes that ever reached the "newbugs" end of the table with any food left on them were of such an unspeakable nature that the seniors had left them untouched. Noriega had summed up the situation on arriving late at the restaurant and proceeded to stuff himself with special dishes of chicken tikka and other delicacies, ordered in his fluent Bengali, that were not offered to other hashers.
Now comes the significance of the 20 bottles of cool Heinecken. These were consumed within a few nanoseconds while the pack waited for food. It soon turned out that the canny manager of Woodlands, in addition to not starting to prepare any food before the pack arrived, had only chilled 20 bottles of beer to possible losses in case the obviously very untrustworthy looking hare failed to bring his guests as promised. The next round of beers was proceeded by a round of ice buckets betraying the fact that the beers were all lukewarm. Further grumblings were heard from the GM about non British army regulation additives to the food such as garlic and chilies. He then proceeded to consume an entire dish of chickpeas as a stratagem to get his own back on Willay for trying to get fresh with him after coming home reeking of blarah (very smelly fermented mud fish added to Lao style somtam and noted for causing live liver fluke infestations) and garlic etc.
Somewhere along the line two male ministay guests appeared sporting Islamic headgear and walking arm in arm, indicating that Woodlands is a hotbed of buggery and terrorism as well as very greasy naans. Then Pink Panther suddenly appeared seemingly having no difficulty in finding his way to the out of the way location, presumably an aficionado of the ministay bargain rates. The GM ordered the company to rise out of respect of Pink Panther's venerable status. PP then produced a leather wine bottle case from which two bottles were produced and uncorked in short order and Pussy Galore sidled up to him for a slurp of her national beverage. Out of the corner of his eye, George of Jungle spotted the word "cheval" on one of PP's bottles, and assuming that in the case of a bon viveur of PP's stature, this must be a bottle of the legendary St Emilion 1947 Cheval Blanc that normally goes at auction for 50,000 baht a bottle (pretax) also made a beeline for PP and PG. He quickly changed course when he was able to get the label into focus and realized it was actually a 2001 Cheval d'Or from the Pay d'Oc, known for its mass market chemically induced potions.
After heated negotiations with the slippery looking subcontinental proprietor, Beefeater confirmed hungry hashers' fears that there was to be no more food. Odd Twilkie who had, presumably, been sitting at a vantage point for service so as to have been able to sample all of the dishes proclaimed the food to be excellent and Beefeater started handing around Woodlands cards for anyone who might care to brave the restaurant again or perhaps take advantage of the ministay bargain. After a few more warm beers with ice cubes most hashers were willing to forget about their hunger pains and agree with Twilkie and Beefeater that the evening had been a good laugh and a success, albeit not of a conventional kind. George of the Jungle took Rasperry Nipples' email address on the flimsy and unbelievable pretext of wanting to hash in Bucharest and every one left the restaurant. SCRIBE: George of the Jungle
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On Monday 18 August we had 19 Harriers, 5 Harriettes, 0 new
boots and 3 visitors, total = 27. Returners
included Faisel "Colonel Khadafi" Mookerdum and Matt Ryder.
Congrats to Pitak on completing 800 runs (out of 1065) with BMH3 and
Alastair "Beefeater" Atkinson & Jumpstart on receiving their
50th run T-shirts.
