A WHINE SPRITZER ... AT 7TH AND MONTANA

Ladies and Gentlemen, meet "Eliot Spritzer," an Anonymous Newcomer who made the scene at 7th and Montana this morning with something to get off his chest. Moments after sitting at a nearby table, he dug deep into the depths of his soul, coughed up a prodigious amount of phlegm and spit it out on the sidewalk. "Uggggh," said Joyce, turning away from the glistening pile as it congealed near 7th Street, "That's something I wish I didn't see." But Mr. Spritzer was oblivious. He merely smiled and asked us to save his seat for him while he went into Starbucks to cough-up $3.75 for a cappuccino. He emerged ten minutes later, renewed, reinvigorated and ready to schmooze-up a storm with the neighborhood dogs. "What a beautiful dog," he said of Charlie, the irascible sheepdog, "What's his name?" "Sam," replied Richard. "Sam, a great name for a dog," said Mr. Spritzer, "Here Sammy ... Come on Sammy Boy. Sammy! Sammy! Sammy ...?!?" The pile of phlegm on the sidewalk was more responsive than Charlie but then, again, Charlie's name isn't Sammy. "What's wrong with this dog? Why is he ignoring me?," asked Mr. Spritzer, irritated. "He doesn't speak Flemish," I said.