Togas, nipple enforcement and early morning regrets

I spent Sunday afternoon wrapped in 12 feet of purple cotton, a gold ribbon holding things together as I ran around Ventura with a bunch of similarly outfitted runners at our local Hash House Harriers' annual Toga run.

I really don't know why people like to dress up so much, but they come out in droves for these costume events, especially toga runs. It's always great to see such spirited, creative participation. One lady even rented a Cleopatra outfit, complete with armbands and headpiece. Not sure if she found her Mark Anthony, but I know many of the participants enjoyed the Dionysian revelry.

The run started at the old City Hall. Our first beer check was at a now forever boycotted local establishment called Winchesters. We had an area in back reserved with pitchers of beer lined up on the table awaiting our arrival. Much to our toga swathed chagrin, we were stopped at the door. Apparantly the establishment, known for its busty and scantily clad waitresses, decided that nipples were unacceptable. Since many of the gentlemen wore true togas with nothing underneath, each had a nipple exposed. The manager stood his ground and said no one showing nipples or armpits could enter. Thankfully, hashers are a resourceful crew and then men wearing shirts under their togas ran in, chugged a beer, then swapped shirts with others awaiting their chance to cover up and chug. This pissed the manager off even more but with several lawyers among the Romans he couldn't argue his way out of allowing the men in sheets and t-shirts in to chug and run. Had he simply let us all into the designated area for a quick chug his ambience would have been far less desecrated for a shorter period of time. But you've got to admit it's fun to find loopholes that cause grief to anyone enforcing nipple coverage.

Next stop was up the hill to the cross for Jello shots then a vodka-induced scuttle down the side of the hill to Paddys, a local gay bar. By this time it was 6:00 or so and as we approached Paddys I saw by the men outside that it was Ventura Bears night there. The Ventura Bears are a club of gay men who like other large and hairy men, hence the name "bears". The hashers are for the most part quite adamant heterosexuals but we are a fun and tolerant group. I just happened to arrive at Paddys along with about five of our largest, hairiest male runners who by some coincidence were wearing some of the most attractive togas. This provided for great entertainment and confusion and a plan to coordinate next year's toga run with Paddys' own toga party if possible. That should be fun...

After Paddys it was on to the end for the festivities. I do not usually get drunk at these events but those jello shots atop the hill did me in. For the first time in ages I have gaps in my memory as to the events that took place. I do know I got a ride home, ordered a pizza, and somehow managed to wake up early enough to make it to a deposition Monday morning in LA.

And I thought I stopped that sort of behavior in my 20's...At least I didn't end up like R, who yesterday confessed who he ended up waking up next to Monday morning. After going through every acceptable female in the group to figure who he may have bedded, I was surprised to find it was one of those both he and I least expected. Let's just say there was an ounce of regret on his part and a ton of laughter on mine.