It was Hut, Hut, Hike at 7th and Montana this morning as an Anonymous Loon made the scene, dazed, confused and intent on treating Our Favorite Starbucks like a football stadium. "I'm going out for a pass!," he yelled as he ran through the front door. "Can you believe it ... I've made the Varsity team and I'm only 15!" Truth be told, he was 50 if he was a day. He weaved his way around the pastry case to the condiments bar screaming "I'm open, I'm open," then made a bee line for my table. "Look sharp!," he yelled, inexplicably dumping a handful of razor blades on my table for safe keeping. I avoided making eye contact, but couldn't help noticing that he was dancing wildly in place, shifting his weight from one foot to the other like he was standing on hot coals. "Gotta Go!," he yelled, and then spun around, ran into the men's room and slammed the door behind him. Moments later, he emerged, only to spend the next five minutes running through Starbucks: Out the back door, in the front door, and so on. "Gotta love his style," said one witness. "Yes," I agreed, "He's certainly pathletic." Who knows, maybe he's in training for the Stuporbowl ...!