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Ask Doctor Down-Down: February 2008

Dear Doctor Down-Down,

I hashed once before when I was on vacation in Mexico, and had a wonderful time.  Everyone was so friendly!  So yesterday I got ballsy and went to my second hash, this time in a major American city.  I left the on-in almost in tears. I paid $20 for 3 chicken wings and one beer (the food went fast), and I was kinda hungry after a 5 mile run. Maybe single chicks aren’t supposed to show up at hashes where they don’t know anyone, because I couldn’t manage to get any of these people to talk to me. I swear I’m not a total loser! What should I have done in this case? I ended up leaving because I was just too lonely and hungry.

On-On,
Lonely in the City

Dear Lonely,

Shoot, that’s nothing.  I get ignored at every hash, and they’re always out of beer by the time I come on-in.  Or at least that’s what they claim.

No, seriously, I’m shocked hashers would ignore a newbie at the hash.  Especially a single woman newbie.  It’s baffling.

Or maybe not so baffling.  Now that I think about it, I have been to hashes where the regulars seem to make a point of being standoffish, and I’ve heard of a few hashes where newbies or outsiders are not welcome.  I suppose hashes like that fizzle out after the members get old and die.

Please believe me when I tell you that hostility toward newbies is not the norm in American hashing, or anywhere else.  Yes, there are a few uptight groups here and there, and it’s just bad luck that you ran into one of those on your second try.  Don’t waste another minute on that particular hash.  Look up other area hashes in the Half-Mind Directory and try another group.

On On,
Doctor Down-Down

Dear Doctor Down-Down,

I had the most disturbing dream last night. I was at the DC Red Dress Hash, all dressed and ready to go except for one thing. I had no underwear – red or otherwise. Nada. Zilch. None. Zero.

The hash was about to begin.  I was running around frantically asking all 1000 hashers there if they had extra panties. Any panties would do. Nobody had extra I could borrow. It was horrible! I assumed I was going to have to run around in a short hoochie mama dress that barely covered my butt cheeks without any underwear. I guess a lot of the harriers would have enjoyed it. Wait a minute, this is DC – a lot of the harriettes might enjoy it, too (as Dual Airbags always sez, “Why limit yourself to 50%?”).

I woke up with my heart pounding. Gosh, it was such a scary dream. Should I go ahead and pack my hash bag today making sure I have plenty of panties in it? I mean, I wouldn’t want any hasher to go through the agony of forgetting their underwear for such an important hash event as Red Dress.

On On,
Pay Per View

Dear Ms. View,

That reminds me of a good joke.

Three guys die on Christmas Eve and show up at the Pearly Gates together.  Saint Peter tells them he’ll let them in if they have anything seasonal on them.  The first guy puts his hand in his pocket and pulls out a sprig of mistletoe from the office party.  Saint Peter lets him in.  The second guy fishes around in his pockets and manages to produce a Christmas bonus check from his boss.  Saint Peter lets him in.  The third guy by now has turned all but one of his pockets inside out.  Looking really worried, he puts his hand in the last pocket left, then smiles.  He pulls out a pair of panties.

“What are those?” asks Saint Peter.

“They’re Carol’s!” says the guy.

And Saint Peter lets him in.

So, see, if you change your name to Carol and send me a pair of your panties, PPV, they might just come in handy some day . . . oh, never mind, keep your name and just send me the panties!

On-On,
Doctor Down-Down

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